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GIFT  OF 

M,    G.    Luck 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/dayofwrathOOjkrich 


THE  DAY  OF  WRATH 


WORKS  OF  MAURUS  JOKAI 


HUNGARIAN  EDITION 

The 
Day  of  Wrath 

Translated  from  the  Hungarian 

By 

R.  NisBET  Bain     >^" 


NEW    YORK 
DOUBLEDAY,    PAGE   &  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1900,  by 
.   ,.^    McCLURE,  PHILIPS  &  CO. 


«  c       «    e  «  !    •       • 


CONTENTS 


CRAPTBR 

I.  THE   BIRD   OF   ILL-OMEN  •••                 ...                 ...         II 

II.  THE   headsman's   FAMILY  ...                 ...                   l8 

III.  A   CHILDISH    MALEFACTOR  ...  ...                 ...         44 

IV.  A   DIVINE   VISITATION        ...  ...  ...                   56 

V.  THE   UNBELOVED   SON  ...                 ...                 ...         62 

VI.  TWO   FAMOUS   PiEDAGOGUES  ...                 ...                   71 

VII.  A   MAN   OF   IRON           ...  ...                 ...                 ...         93 

VIII.  THE   POLISH   WOMAN           ...  ...                 ...                 121 

IX.  THE   PLAGUE                   ...  ...                 ...                 ...       I75 

X.  A  LEADER   OF  THE  PEOPLE  ...                 ...                 1 89 

XI.  THE  FIRST   SPARK      ...  ...                 ...                 ...      210 

XII.  IN   THE   MIDST   OF  THE    FIRE  ...                 ...                236 

XIII.  THE  LEATHER-BELL  ...  ...                 ...      250 

XIV.  THE   SENTENCE   OF   DEATH  ...  ...                 264 

XV.  OIL   UPON  THE  WATERS  ...                 ...                 ...      277 

XVI.  'tis  well  that  the   night   IS   BLACK       ...  29I 

XVII.  THE  VOICE   OF  THE  LORD  ...                 ...                 ...      326 

XVIII.  THE   READY-DUG  GRAVES  ...                ...                336 


M41106 


PREFACE. 


"SzomortJ  Napok"  was  written  in  the  darkest 
days  of  Maurus  J6kai*s  life,  and  reflects  the 
depression  of  a  naturally  generous  and  sanguine 
nature  bowed  down,  for  a  time,  beneath  an  almost 
unendurable  load  of  unmerited  misfortune.  The 
story  was  written  shortly  after  the  collapse  of  the 
Magyar  Revolution  of  1848-49,  when  Hungary  lay 
crushed  and  bleeding  under  the  heel  of  triumphant 
Austria  and  her  Russian  ally ;  when,  deprived  of 
all  her  ancient  political  rights  and  liberties,  she 
had  been  handed  over  to  the  domination  of  the 
stranger,  and  saw  her  best  and  noblest  sons  either 
voluntary  exiles,  or  suspected  rebels  under  police 
surveillance.  Jokai  also  was  in  the  category  of  the 
proscribed.  He  had  played  a  conspicuous  part  in 
the  Revolution;  he  had  served  his  country  with 
both  pen  and  sword;  and,  now  that  the  bloody 
struggle  was  over,  and  the  last  Honved  army  had 
surrendered  to  the  Russians,  J6kai,  disillusioned  and 
broken-hearted,  weis  left  to  piece  together  again  as 


8  PREFACE. 

best  he  might,  the  shattered  fragments  of  a  ruined 
career. 

No  wonder,  then,  if  to  the  author  of  "  Szomoni 
Napok,"  the  whole  world  seemed  out  of  joint 
The  book  itself  is,  primarily,  a  tale  of  suffering, 
crime,  and  punishment;  but  it  is  also  a  bitter 
satire  on  the  crying  abuses  and  anomalies  due 
to  the  semi-feudal  condition  of  things  which  had 
prevailed  in  Hungary  for  centiuries,  the  reformation 
and  correction  of  which  had  been  the  chief  mission 
of  the  Liberal  Party  in  Hungary  to  which  Jokai 
belonged.  The  brutal  ignorance  of  the  common 
people,  the  criminal  neglect  of  the  gentry  which 
made  such  ignorance  possible,  the  imbecility  of 
mere  mob-rule,  and  the  mischievousness  of  dema- 
gogic pedantry — these  are  the  objects  of  the 
author's  satiric  lash. 

As  literature,  despite  the  occasional  crudities  and 
extravagances  of  a  too  exuberant  genius  that  has 
yet  to  learn  self-restraint,  "  Szomorii  Napok  "  stands 
very  high.  It  is  animated  by  a  fine,  contagious 
indignation,  and  its  vividly  terrible  episodes,  which 
appal  while  they  fascinate  the  reader,  seem  to  be 
written  in  characters  of  blood  and  fire.  The  descrip- 
tions of  the  plague-stricken  land  and  the  conflagra- 
tion of  the  headsman's  house  must  be  numbered 
among  the  finest  passages  that  have  ever  flowed 
from  J6kai's  pea  But  the  mild,  idyllic  strain,  so 
characteristic  of  Jokai,  who  is  nothing  if  not 
romantic,  runs  through  the  sombre  and  lurid  tableau 
like  a  bright  silver  thread,  and  the  denouement,  in 


PREFACE.  9 

which  all  enmities  are  reconciled,  all  evil-doers  are 
punished,  and  Gentleness  and  Heroism  receive  their 
retributive  crowns,  is  a  singularly  happy  one. 

Moreover,  in  "  Szomoni  Napok "  will  be  found 
some  of  Jokai's  most  original  characters,  notably, 
the  ludicrous,  if  infinitely  mischievous,  poHtical 
crotcheteer,  "Numa  Pompilius;  "  the  drunken  can- 
tor, Michael  Korde,  whose  grotesque  adventure  in 
the  dog-kennel  is  a  true  Fantasiestiick  d  la  C allot ; 
the  infra-human  Mekipiros ;  the  half -crazy  Leather- 
bell  ;  and  that  fine,  soldierly  type,  General  Vertessy 

R.  NiSBET  Bain. 
October^  190a 


THE  DAY  OF  WRATH. 


CHAPTER  L 

THE  BIRD  OF  ILL-OMEN.         ^^'  ^  '       ^ 

Whoever  has  traversed  the  long  single  street  of 
Hetfalu  will  have  noticed  three  houses  whose 
exterior  plainly  shows  that  nobody  dwells  in  them. 

The  first  of  these  three  houses  is  outside  the 
village  on  a  great  green  hill,  round  which  the  herds 
of  the  village  peacefully  crop  the  pasture.  Only 
now  and  then  does  one  or  other  of  these  quiet  beasts 
start  back  when  it  suddenly  comes  upKjn  a  white 
skeleton,  or  a  bleached  bullock-horn,  in  the  thickest 
patches  of  the  high  grass.  The  house  itself  has  no 
roof,  and  the  soot  with  which  years  of  heavy  rains 
have  bedaubed  the  walls,  points  to  the  fact  that  once 
upon  a  time  the  place  was  burnt  out  Now,  dry 
white  stalks  of  straw  wave  upon  the  mouldering 
balustrades. 

The  iron  supports  have  been  taken  out  of  the 
windows,  on  the  threshold  thorns  and  thistles  grow 
luxuriantly.  There  is  no  trace  of  a  path — perhaps 
there  never  was  ona 


12  THE  DAY  OF  WRATH, 

The  land  surrounding  this  house  is  full  of  all 
sorts  of  fragrant  flowers. 

The  second  house  stands  in  the  centre  of  the 
village,  and  was  the  castle  of  the  lord  of  the  manor. 
It  is  a  dismal  wilderness  of  a  place.  A  stone  wall, 
long  since  fallen  to  pieces,  separated  it  at  one  time 
from  the  road.  Now  only  a  few  fragments  of  this 
y/zXl  <5liill|  ^t^d  upright,  and  the  wild  jasmine  creeps 
ajil  over.it,.  cab  ting  down  into  the  road  its  poisonous 
'dark  'red  clieiries.  The  door  lolls  against  its  pillars, 
it  looks  as  if  it  had  once  upon  a  time  been  torn 
from  its  hinges  and  tlien  left  to  take  care  of  itself. 
The  house  itself,  indeed,  is  intact,  only  the  windows 
have  been  taken  out  and  the  empty  spaces  bricked 
in.  Every  door,  too,  has  been  walled  up,  boards 
have  been  nailed  over  the  ventilators  in  the  floor, 
the  white  stone  staircase  leading  up  to  the  hall  has 
been  broken  off  and  propped  up  against  the  wall, 
and  the  same  fate  has  befallen  a  red  marble  bench 
on  the  ground  floor. 

Here  and  there  the  cement  has  fallen  away  from 
the  front  of  the  house,  and  layers  of  red  bricks  peep 
through  the  gap.  In  other  places  large  heaps  of 
white  stone  are  piled  up  in  front  of  the  building. 
In  the  rear  of  it,  which  used  to  look  out  upon  a 
garden,  it  is  plain  that  a  good  many  of  the  windows 
have  also  been  built  in,  and,  to  obliterate  all  trace 
of  them,  the  whole  wall  has  been  whitewashed.  All 
roimd  jEibout  many  fruit-trees  seem  to  have  been 
rooted  up,  and  for  three  years  running,  the  cater- 
pillar-host has  fallen  upon  the  remnant;   nobody 


THE   BIRD   OF  ILL-OMEN.  13 

looks  after  them,  and  they  are  left  to  perish  one  by 
one,  consumed  by  yellow  mould 

The  third  house  is  a  little  shanty  at  the  far  end 
of  the  village,  shoved  away  behind  a  large  ugly 
granary,  with  its  little  yard  full  of  reeds,  in  the 
midst  of  which  is  a  crooked,  dilapidated  pump. 
The  panes  of  glass  in  the  lead-encased  frames  have 
been  frosted  over,  the  marl  of  the  thatched  chimney 
is  crumbling  away,  and  the  whole  of  the  roof  is  of 
a  beautiful  green,  like  velvet,  due  to  the  luxuriantly 
spreading  moss. 

It  is  thirty  yeajrs  since  these  three  houses  were 
inhabited. 

In  the  little  hut,  on  the  reed-thatched  roof  of 
which  the  screech-owl  now  lays  its  eggs,  dwelt  thirty 
years  ago,  a  crazy  old  woman,  they  called  her 
Magdolna.  She  must  have  been  for  a  long  time 
out  of  her  wits ;  some  said  she  had  been  bom  so, 
others  maintained  that  the  roof  had  fallen  right 
upon  her  head  and  injured  her  brain ;  others  again 
affirmed  that  the  marriage  of  her  only  daughter 
with  the  hangman  was  the  cause  of  her  mental 
aberration.  There  were  some  who  even  remem- 
bered the  time  when  this  woman  was  rich  and 
respected,  and  then  suddenly  she  had  become  a 
beggar,  and  subsequently  a  crazy  beggar.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  in  those  days  this  old  woman  exercised  a 
peculiar  influence  over  the  superstitious  peasantry. 

A  sort  of  awe-inspiring  exaltation  seemed  to  take 
possession  of  this  creature  whenever  she  stood  at 
the  threshold  of  her  hut,  within  the  walls  of  which 


14  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

she  usually  remained  in  a  brown  study  insensible 
to  her  surroundings  for  days  together. 

When,  at  such  times  of  exaltation,  she  stepped 
forth  into  the  street,  all  the  dogs  in  the  village 
would  fall  a  howling  as  they  are  wont  to  do  when 
the  headsman  goes  his  rounds.  All  who  met  her 
timidly  shrank  aside,  for,  not  infrequently,  she 
would  foretell  the  hours  of  their  death,  and  cases 
were  known  in  which  her  prophesies  had  come 
true.  She  could  tell  at  a  single  glance  which  of  the 
young  unmarried  women  did  honour  to  their 
pdrtds*  and  which  did  not  She  could  read  in  the 
faces  of  the  children  the  names  of  their  parents, 
and  she  often  gave  them  names  very  different  from 
the  names  they  bore.  The  maids  and  young  married 
women  of  the  village  therefore,  not  imnaturally, 
trembled  before  her. 

She  recognised  the  stolen  horse  in  front  of  the 
cart,  and  shouted  to  the  farmer  who  drove  it :  "  You 
stole  that,  and  it  will  be  stolen  back  again !  " 

At  other  times  she  would  sit  in  the  church-door, 
lay  her  cratch  across  the  threshold,  and  wait  to  see 
who  would  dare  to  step  across  it  Woe  then  to 
whomsoever  had  transgressed  any  of  the  command- 
ments! All  through  the  summer  the  zigue  would 
plague  him,  his  oxen  would  die,  the  tares  would 
choke  his  corn,  his  limbs  would  be  racked  with 
pleurisy,  or  he  would  be  nearly  mauled  to  death  in 
the  village  tavern. 

Often  she  sat  for  hours  at  home,  among  hei 

•  /»((<r^<<— head-dress  of  the  young  peasant  maids. 


THE   BIRD   OF   ILL-OMEN.  15 

thorns  and  thistles,  sobbing  and  moaning,  and  at 
such  times  the  common  folks  believed  that  the 
whole  district  would  be  visited  by  a  hailstorm. 
Sometimes  she  roamed  about  for  weeks,  nobody 
knew  where,  nobody  knew  why,  and  during  all  that 
time  the  hosts  of  grasshoppers,  wood-lice,  spiders, 
caterpillars,  and  other  Heaven-sent  plagues,  multi- 
plied terribly  throughout  the  land ;  but  the  moment 
the  old  woman  returned  they  all  disappeared  again 
in  a  day  without  leaving  a  trace  behind  them. 

At  one  time  they  fancied  she  was  at  the  point  of 
death. 

She  lay  outside  her  hut  close  to  the  well  and 
drank  incessantly  of  its  water.  At  last  she  collapsed 
altogether,  she  could  not  even  lift  her  hands.  The 
passers-by  perceived  that  she  was  parched  with 
thirst,  was  wrestling  with  death,  and  yet  could  not 
die.  If  they  had  but  given  her  a  drink  of  cold 
water,  she  would  immediately  have  been  freed  from 
the  torments  of  life,  but  nobody  durst  approach  to 
give  her  to  drink.  On  that  same  day  the  lightning 
thrice  struck  the  village,  and  such  a  deluge  of  rain 
descended  that  the  water  flooded  the  roads  and 
invaded  the  houses. 

The  next  day  there  was  nothing  at  all  the  matter 
with  the  old  woman,  but  she  went  about  bowed 
down,  shaking  and  leaning  heavily  on  her  crutch 
as  at  other  times. 

When  the  spring  of  1831  was  passing  away,  all 
sorts  of  terrible  premonitory  signs  warned  the 
people  of  the  frightful  visitation  which  was  about  to 


x6  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

befall  humanity.  Nature  herself  made  the  people 
anxious  and  imcomfortable.  There  were  showers 
of  falling  stars,  it  rained  blood  in  various  places, 
death-headed  moths  flew  about  in  the  evenings, 
wolves,  tame  and  fawning  like  dogs,  appeared 
in  the  village  and  let  themselves  be  beaten  to  death 
before  the  thresholds  of  the  houses. 

What  was  going  to  happen? — ^nobody  could  telL 

Everyone  augured,  feared,  felt  that  mourning  and 
woe  were  close  at  hand ;  yes,  everyone. 

The  trees  made  haste  to  put  forth  their  blossoms, 
they  made  even  greater  haste  to  produce  their 
ripened  fruit  All  nature  knew  not  what  to  do, 
man  least  of  all. 

In  those  days  when  a  single  good  word  spoken 
in  season,  a  single  lucid  idea  might  have  meant  the 
saving  of  many  lives,  the  sole  prophet  in  the  whole 
country-side  was  this  crazy  old  woman,  who,  in  the 
dolorous  exaltation  of  her  deranged  mind,  some- 
times blindly  blurted  out  things  on  which  the 
future  was  to  impress  the  seal  of  truth.  But,  for  the 
most  part,  her  multitudinous,  ambiguous  utterances 
might  be  interpreted  this  way  or  that,  according 
to  the  liking  of  her  hearers,  and  obscured  rather 
than  revealed  the  future. 

When  the  summer  came,  with  its  terribly  hot 
days,  the  woman's  madness  seemed  to  culminate 
in  downright  frenzy,  for  whole  nights  together  she 
went  shrieking  through  the  village.  The  dogs  crept 
forth  from  under  the  gates  to  meet  her,  and  she 
sat  down  beside  them,  put  her  arms  round  their 


THE   BIRD  OF   ILL-OMEN.  17 

heads,  and  they  would  howl  together  in  hideous 
unison.  Then  she  would  go  into  the  houses  weeping 
and  moaning,  and  would  ask  for  a  glass  of  water, 
and  would  moisten  her  hands  and  her  eyes  there- 
with. In  some  of  the  houses  she  would  simply  say : 
"Why  don't  you  smoke  the  room  out,  there's  a 
vile  odour  of  death  in  it ;  in  other  places  she 
would  ask  for  a  Prayer  Book,  and  would  fold  down 
the  page  at  the  Office  of  Prayers  for  the  Dead.  Or 
she  would  send  messages  to  the  other  world  through 
people  who  were  on  their  legs  hale  and  hearty,  and 
would  tell  them  not  to  forget  these  messages. 

"  Get  a  cross  made  for  you !  "  was  her  most  usual 
greeting.  And  woe  betide  the  family  into  whose 
windows  she  cried :  "  Get  two  crosses  made !  Get 
three  made!  One  for  yourself,  one  for  your  wife, 
one  for  each  of  your  sons  and  each  of  your 
daughters ! " 

The  people  lived  in  desperate  expectation ;  they 
would  have  run  away  had  they  known  whither  to  run. 

And  what  then  were  the  wise  and  learned  doing 
all  this  time,  they  who  knew  right  well  that  a  mortal 
danger  was  approaching;  for  they  had  read  of  its 
ravages,  they  had  looked  upon  the  very  face  of  it 
in  pictures,  they  knew  the  pace  at  which  it  was 
travelling  day  by  day — ^what  did  they  do  to  soothe 
the  anguish  of  the  people,  and  inspire  them  with 
confidence  in  the  tender  mercies  of  God? 

All  they  did  was  to  have  a  cemetery  ready  dug 
for  those  who  were  to  die  in  heaps  in  the  course  of 
the  year. 

B 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE  HEADSMAN'S  FAMILY. 

The  house  of  the  headsman  is  surrounded  by  a 
stone  wall,  its  door  is  studded  with  huge  nails,  acacia 
trees  rustle  in  front  of  it  Its  windows  are  hidden 
by  a  high  fence.  On  its  roof  from  time  to  time 
something  flap-flaps  like  a  black  flag ;  it  is  a  raven 
which  has  chosen  the  roof  of  that  house  as  a  refuge. 
No  other  animal  likes  the  hangman.  The  dogs 
bay  at  him,  the  oxen  run  bellowing  out  of  his  way, 
only  the  ravens  acknowledge  him  as  their  host 
They  are  his  own  birds. 

It  is  late  in  the  evening,  the  sun  has  long  since 
set,  it  may  be  about  nine  or  ten  o'clock,  and  yet  the 
sky  is  unusally  bright  Everywhere  a  strange 
reflected  glare  torments  the  eye  of  man.  Not  a 
cloud  is  visible ;  there  is  not  a  star  in  the  heavens, 
yet  a  persistent,  murky  yellowness  embraces  the 
whole  sky  like  a  shining  mist,  as  if  the  night,  instead 
of  putting  on  her  usual  cinder-grey  garment,  had 
clothed  herself  in  flame-coloured  weeds.  Any 
sounds  that  may  be  audible  seem  as  if  they  come 
from  an  immeasurable  distance,  and  are  hollow  and 
awe-inspiring. 

Close  to  the  horizon  the  pointed  steeples  of 


THE   HEADSMAN'S   FAMILY!  19 

Hetfalu  are  visible,  their  black  outlines  stand  out 
in  sharp  contrast  against  the  burning  sky. 

The  whole  district  is  empty  and  deserted.  At 
other  times,  in  the  summer  evenings,  one  would 
have  seen  tired  yet  boisterous  groups  of  peasants 
returning  home  from  working  in  the  fields  and 
hastening  back  to  their  respective  villages.  The 
voice  of  the  vesper  bell  would  everywhere  have  been 
resounding,  the  sweetly-sad  songs  of  the  good- 
humoured  peasant  girls  would  have  soothed  the  ear, 
mingled  with  the  jingle  of  the  bells  of  the 
homeing  kine,  and  the  joyous  barking  of  the  dogs 
bounding  on  in  front  of  their  masters.  Now  every- 
thing is  dumb.  The  fields  for  the  most  part  lie 
fallow  and  overgrown  by  weeds  and  thistles, 
never  seen  before.  In  other  places  the  green  wheat 
crop,  choked  by  tares>  has  already  been  mown  down. 
Means  of  communication  have  everywhere  been 
interrupted  by  the  sanitary  cordons.  The  high 
road  is  covered  with  broad  patches  of  grass  on  both 
sidesu  Men  hold  handkerchiefs  to  their  mouths 
and  noses,  and  do  not  trust  themselves  to  breathe. 
The  tongues  of  the  bells  have  everywhere  been 
removed.  At  the  end  of  every  village  stands  a 
good-sized  four-cornered  piece  of  ground  surrounded 
by  a  ditch,  and  within  it,  here  and  there,  graves 
have  been  dug  well  beforehand. 

Throughout  this  lonely  wilderness  the  furious 
barking  of  a  watch-dog  suddenly  resounds,  to  which 
all  the  dogs  in  the  distant  village  instantly  begin 
to  respond.    Two  men  are  fumbling  at  the  latch 


20  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

of  the  headsman's  door,  and  the  chained  dog  within 
the  courtyard,  scenting  a  stranger,  gives  him  a 
hostile  greeting. 

"Who  is  there?"  inquires  from  within  an  un- 
pleasant, hoarsely  screeching  voice,  the  owner 
whereof  at  the  same  time  soothing  the  big  dog 
which,  snarling  fiercely,  thrusts  his  nose  between 
the  door  and  the  lintel,  and  snaps  from  time  to  time 
through  the  opening. 

"  Open  the  door,  Mekipiros,  and  don't  bawl ! " 
answers  one  of  the  new  arrivals,  impatiently  beating 
with  his  fists  upon  the  door.  "  There's  no  necessity 
for  closing  the  door  either,  for  who  is  likely  to  come? 
Even  if  you  left  it  wide  open,  nobody  would  stray 
in,  I'll  be  bound,  save  your  pal.  Old  Nick,  and  here 
he  is/* 

At  this  well-known  voice  the  wolf-hound  ceased 
to  bark,  and  when  the  door  was  opened  leaped 
joyously  upon  the  neck  of  the  new-comer,  whining 
and  sniffing. 

"  Send  this  filthy  sea-bear  to  the  deuce,  Meki- 
piros, can't  you  ?     It's  licking  my  very  nose  off." 

The  person  so  addressed  was  a  curious  sport  of 
nature.  It  was  a  square-set  creature  dressed  com- 
pletely in  women's  clothes.  Its  features  were  those 
of  a  semi-bestial  type.  It  had  an  immense  round 
head  covered  with  short,  tangled,  luikempt  hair, 
a  large  broad  mouth,  a  stumpy,  wide-spreading 
nose,  a  projecting  forehead  furrowed  with  deep 
wrinkles,  thick  bushy  eyebrows,  and  one  half  of 
the  homy-skinned  face  was  covered  by  immature 


THE   HEADSMAN'S   FAMILY.  21 

furry  whiskers.  And  this  masculine  creature  wore 
women's  clothes!  On  perceiving  the  new-comer, 
it  seized  the  yelping  dog,  big  as  a  calf  though  it  was, 
by  the  chain  with  a  bony  hand  and  hurled  it  back- 
wards, grinning  and  grunting  all  the  time  without 
any  apparent  cause. 

"  Come !  go  in  and  don't  stand  staring  aimlessly 
about,"  said  the  new-comer  turning  to  his  comrade, 
who  was  standing  in  melancholy  amazement  on  the 
threshold,  wrapped  up  in  a  large  mantle,  with  a 
broad-brimmed  hat  on  his  head 

The  dog  accompanied  the  guests  as  far  as  the 
door  of  his  kennel,  sniffing  all  the  time  at  the  heels 
of  the  stranger,  whilst  the  gabbling  Mekipiros 
tugged  away  at  its  chain.  A  hideous  moustache 
had  been  painted  on  the  monster's  lip  either  with 
blood  or  red  chalk,  and  he  tried  to  call  attention 
to  it  with  extreme  self-satisfaction. 

"Is  the  master  at  home,  or  the  missus^  eh! 
Mekipiros?"  inquired  the  first-comer. 

"The  master  is  singing  and  the  mistress  is 
dancing,"  replied  the  half-man  with  a  bestial 
chuckle. 

"  Tell  them  that  we  have  arrived,  come !  off  you 
go,  and  look  sharp  about  it,"  and  with  that  he  gave 
a  kick  accompanied  by  a  vigorous  buffet  to  the 
monster,  who  regarded  him  for  a  time  with  a  broad 
grin,  as  if  expecting  a  repetition  of  the  dose,  and 
then  plunged  clumsily  through  the  kitchen  door 
bellowing  with  mirth.  Meanwhile  the  two  men 
remained  outside  in  the  courtyard. 


22  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

On«  of  them  was  a  tall  fair  youth  clad  from  head 
to  foot  in  a  greasy  leather  costume.  He  had  round 
washed-out  features,  a  callous  sort  of  apathy  played 
around  his  lips,  and  a  cold  indifference  to  suffering 
was  visible  in  his  red-rimmed  green  eyes.  What 
struck  one  most  about  him  was  the  furtive,  prying 
expression  of  his  face ;  he  was  evidently  a  spy  by 
nature,  although  he  attempted  to  conceal  his  real 
character  beneath  a  mask  of  stupidity  and  absent- 
mindedness.  But  he  pricked  up  his  ears  at  every 
word  spoken  in  his  presence.  He  reminded  one 
of  a  snake  which,  when  captured,  stiffens  itself  out 
and  pretends  to  be  dead,  and  will  let  itself  be  broken 
in  pieces  before  it  will  move. 

The  other  youth  was  a  pale-faced  man,  plainly  a 
prey  to  the  most  overwhelming  depression.  The 
ends  of  his  little  black  moustache  straggled  uncared 
for  about  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  his  hat  was 
pressed  right  down  over  his  eyes.  You  could  see 
at  a  glance  that  his  mind  and  his  body  were  wander- 
ing miles  apart  from  each  otiier. 

There  they  stood,  then,  in  the  courtyard  of  the 
headsman's  house.  The  appearance  of  this  court- 
yard formed  an  overwhelming  contrast  with  the  idea 
one  generally  pictures  to  one's  self  of  such  a  place. 
A  pretty  green  lawn  covered  the  whole  courtyard, 
clinging  to  the  walls  were  creeping  fig  and  apricot 
trees ;  in  the  background  was  a  pretty  vine ;  heart- 
shaped  flower-beds  had  been  cut  out  of  the  lawn, 
and  they  were  full  of  fine  wallflowers  and  the  most 
fragrant  sylvan  flowers  of  every  species;   further 


THE   HEADSMAN'S   FAMILY.  23 

away  stood  melon  beds,  sending  their  far-reaching 
shoots  in  every  direction,  red  currant  bushes,  a 
weeping  willow  or  two,  yellow  rose  bushes,  myriad 
hued  full-blown  poppies — and  little  white  red-eyed 
rabbits  were  bounding  all  over  the  grass  plot 

And  yet  this  is  the  dwelling  of  the  headsman. 

"  You  can  come  in !  "  cried  a  strong,  penetrating, 
sonorous  woman's  voice  from  within,  and  the  same 
instant  Mekipiros  botmded  through  the  door  with 
his  huge  shaggy  head  projecting  far  in  front  of 
him.  It  was  plain  that  he  had  not  quitted  the  room 
voluntarily,  but  in  consequence  of  a  vigorous  impul- 
sion from  behind 

The  man  in  leather  now  shoved  his  melancholy 
comrade  on  in  front  of  him,  and  the  headsman's 
door  closed  behind  them. 

It  was  a  kitchen  into  which  they  had  entered,  in  no 
way  different  from  the  hearth  and  home  of  ordinary 
men.  The  plates  and  dishes  shone  with  cleanliness, 
everything  was  in  apple-pie  order,  the  lire  flickered 
merrily  beneath  the  chimney,  and  yet — ^fancy  was 
continually  finding  something  in  every  object  remi- 
niscent of  blood-curdHng  circumstances.  That  axe, 
for  instance,  stuck  in  a  block  in  front  of  the  fire- 
place ?  Two  years  ago  the  executioner  had  beheaded 
a  parricide — ^perchance  'twas  on  that  very  block! 

That  rope,  again,  attached  to  that  bucket,  that 
curved  piece  of  iron  glowing  red  in  the  fire,  that 
heavy  chain  dangling  down  from  the  chimney — 
who  knows  of  what  accursed  horrible  scenes  they 
may  not  have  been  the  witnesses  at  some  time  or 


34  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

other?  Yet,  perhaps,  there  may  be  nothing  sinlstet 
at  all  about  them;  perhaps  they  are  employed  for 
quite  simple,  honest,  culinary  purposes.  Still,  this 
is  the  headsman's  house,  remember ! 

Here  and  there  on  the  walls  black  spots  are 
visible.  What  are  they?  Blood,  perhaps.  One's 
eye  cannot  tear  itself  away  from  them;  again  and 
again  it  goes  back  to  them,  and  the  mind  cannot 
reconcile  itself  to  the  thought :  perchance  this  may 
be  the  blood  of  some  beast,  the  blood  of  some 
common  fattened  beast  which  man  must  kill  that 
he  may  eat  and  live — for  is  not  this  the  dwelling 
of  the  headsman? 

A  woman  is  roasting  and  frying  over  the  hearth, 
a  tall,  muscularly  built  virago,  to  whose  sinewy 
arms,  dome-like  breast,  red  shining  cheeks,  and 
burning  eyes,  the  flickering  flames  gave  a  savage, 
imcanny  look;  her  fine  black  locks  are  wound  up 
in  a  large  knot  at  the  back  of  her  head,  her  large 
eyebrows  have  grown  together,  and  the  upper 
surface  of  her  red,  swollen  lips  are  amber-coloured 
with  masculine  down. 

"  Sit  down!  "  she  cries  to  the  new  arrivals  with  a 
rough  growling  voice.  "You  are  hungry,  eh? 
Well,  soon  you  shall  have  something  to  eat.  There's 
the  table" — and  she  went  on  cooking  and  piling 
up  the  fire;  as  it  roared  up  the  chimney  it  gave 
her  red  face  an  infernal  expression.  This  was  the 
headsman's  wife. 

The  melancholy  youth  sat  down  abstractedly  at 
the  table,  the  other  strode  up  to  the  hearth  and 


THE   HEADSMAN'S   FAMILY.  a  5 

began  whispering  to  the  woman,  whilst  from  time  to 
time  they  cast  glances  at  the  stranger-guest 

The  man's  whispers  were  inaudible,  but  it  was 
possible  to  catch  every  word  the  woman  said,  for, 
try  as  she  might,  she  could  not  soften  down  her 
thunderous  voice  into  a  whisper. 

"  I  know  him,"  said  she,  "  he  will  soon  get  used 
to  this  place  .  .  .  Nobody  will  look  for  him  here 
.  .  .     Get  away  from  here?    How  can  he?" 

Presently  she  placed  a  dish  of  boiled  flesh  before 
her  guests.  The  pale  youth  picked  at  his  food 
slowly  and  sadly,  the  other  attacked  it  with  ravenous 
haste,  throwing  a  word  over  his  shoulder  to  the 
woman  the  while,  or  urging  his  comrade  to  eat, 
or  flinging  bones  to  the  dog  and  kicking  him 
viciously  in  the  ribs  when  he  snapped  them  up. 

"  Can  one  have  a  word  with  the  old  man?  "  he 
inquired  of  the  woman. 

"  Let  him  bide,  the  old  man  is  plagued  with  his 
devils  again.  Don't  you  hear  how  he  sings?  Why, 
he  voices  it  as  lustily  as  any  Slovak  student  on 
St  Lucia's  day." 

And  indeed  from  some  room  far  away  now  came 
this  verse  of  a  well-known  hymn,  sung  in  a  deep 
vibrating  voice  full  of  a  woeful,  contrite  tremulous- 
ness: 

"  Oh,  Lord,  the  number  of  our  sins 
And  vileness,  who  shall  purge  ? 
Withhold  the  fury  of  Thy  wrath, 
Though  we  deserve  its  pouring  forth, 
And  stay  Thy  chastening  scourge  1 " 


96  THE    DAY    OF    Vl^ATH. 

Melancholy,  heart-rending  was  the  sense  of  peni- 
tence conveyed  by  this  deep,  vibrating,  bell-like 
voice.  A  penitential  hymn  in  the  house  of  the 
headsman ! 

The  sad-faced  youth  shivered  at  the  sound  of 
this  voice  and  seemed  to  awake  suddenly  from  out 
of  a  reverie.  He  passed  his  hand  once  or  twice 
across  his  forehead  as  if  to  rally  his  wits  and  re- 
duce the  chaos  within  and  around  him  to  some 
sort  of  order,  but  gradually  sank  back  again  into 
his  former  lethargy. 

A  short  time  afterwards  the  same  hymn  was 
heard  again ;  but  the  voice  of  the  singer  this  time 
was  not  the  sonorous,  manly  voice  they  had  heard 
before,  it  was  a  heavenly,  pure,  childlike  voice 
which  now  began  to  sing,  full  of  the  magic  charm 
and  sweetness  of  a  crystal  harmonica : 

••  Yet  know  we,  Lord,  whoso  repents 

And  turns  his  heart  to  Thee, 
Shall  aye  find  favour  in  Thy  sight ; 
Nor  wilt  thou  hide  from  him  Thy  light, 

Thy  mercy  he  shall  see." 

Angels  in  Heaven  could  not  have  sung  more 
sweetly  than  the  voice  that  sang  this  verse.  Who 
could  it  be?  An  angel  proclaiming  remission  of 
sins  in  the  house  of  the  headsman ! 

"  So  the  old  cut-throat  still  keeps  the  girl  under 
a  glass  case,  eh?" 

"  He  wants  to  bring  her  up  as  a  saint  on  purpose 
to  aggravate  me,  for  he  knows  very  well  that  I  never 
could  endure  anything  of  the  saintly  sort" 


THE   HEADSMAN'S   FAMILY.  2^ 

"Apparently  the  old  chap  is  stark  staring  mad." 

"  He  is  possessed  by  devils,  I  fancy.  Last  week 
three  of  his  'prentices  bolted  because  they  could  not 
stand  his  sanctimoniousness  any  longer.  Before 
dinner  he  would  insist  on  reading  to  them  out  of 
the  Bible  for  half  an  hour  at  a  stretch,  and  if  any 
of  them  dared  to  laugh  he  flung  him  out  of  doors 
like  a  puppy  dog ;  you  may  imagine  what  a  pretty 
figure  a  headsman  cuts  who  is  always  preaching 
about  the  other  world,  and  proclaiming  the  word  of 
the  Lord  with  his  clenched  fists." 

"ni  be  bound  to  say  he  has  even  taught 
Mekipiros  to  go  down  on  his  hams." 

"  Ho,  ho,  ho !  Call  him  in !  Come  hither,  Meki- 
piros, you  bear's  cub,  you !  " 

Mekipiros  came  in. 

"  Come  hither,  I  would  box  your  chaps.  There, 
take  that!  What,  still  grinning,  eh?  There's 
another  then!  Weep  immediately,  sirrah!  can't 
you!  Pull  a  wry  mug!  So!  Put  your  hands 
together!  Cast  down  your  eyes!  So!  And  now 
fire  away  I " 

And  the  monster  did  indeed  begin  to  recite  a 
prayer.  One  might  perhaps  have  expected  him  to 
mumble  something  altogether  imintelligible.  But  no ! 
He  recited  it  to  the  end  with  a  solemn  voice,  and 
his  eyes  remained  cast  down  the  whole  time.  His 
face  even  began  to  assume  a  more  human  expression, 
and  when  he  came  to  the  words  which  cinnounced 
remission  of  sins  to  the  truly  penitent  siimer,  two 
heavy  tear-drops  welled  forth  and  ran  down  his 
rough  wrinkled  face. 


tS  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

"*  Ha,  ha,  ha !  "  laughed  the  headsman's  wife,  and 
she  smacked  the  forehead  of  the  suppliant  re- 
peatedly with  the  palm  of  her  hand ;  "  a  lot  of  good 
may  it  do  you !  " 

Suddenly,  like  the  rolling  echo  of  a  descending 
thunderbolt,  a  song  of  praise  uttered  in  an  awe- 
inspiring  voice  from  the  adjoining  room  cut  short 
this  inhuman  mockeiy. 

•*  Who  thunders  so  loudly  in  the  lurid  heavens  above? 
What  means  this  mighty  quaking  ?  Why  doth  the  round 
earth  move  ?  " 

At  the  same  instant  the  boiling  water  overflowed 
from  the  caldron  and  put  the  fire  out,  and  they 
were  all  in  darkness.  There  was  a  dead  silence, 
when  suddenly  a  blast  of  wind  caught  the  half-open 
door  and  slammed  it  to  violently,  and  in  the  dead 
silence  that  followed  could  be  heard  something  like 
the  cry  of  a  bird  of  ill-omen  or  the  yell  of  a  maniac 
flying  from  the  pursuit  of  his  own  soul :  "  Death  I 
— a  bloody  death — a  death  of  horror !  " 

Gradually  the  last  sounds  of  this  voice  died  away 
in  the  distance.  The  chained  watch-dog  sent  a 
dismal  howl  after  it 

And  when  the  feeble  light  of  the  tallow  candles 
shone  again  through  the  darkness,  it  fell  upon  three 
shapes  which  had  sunk  upon  their  knees  in  terror, 
the  two  'prentices  of  the  headsman,  and  the  monster. 
But  the  proud,  defiant  virago  turned  towards  the 
elder  of  the  'prentices,  and  looked  him  up  and  down 
contemptuously. 


THE   HEADSMAN'S   FAMILY.  29 

"  Then  you,  too,  are  one  of  them,  eh  ?  "  cried  she. 

"Did  you  not  hear  the  cry  of  the  death-bird?" 
stammered  he. 

"What  are  you  afraid  of?  Tis  only  my  half- 
crazy  old  mother." 


At  night  the  headsman's  apprentices  sleep  on  the 
floor  of  the  loft  The  headsman  himself  has  a  room 
overlooking  the  courtyard;  Mekipiros  slept  in  the 
stable  outside  with  the  watch-dog. 

All  was  silent  Outside,  the  wind  had  died  away, 
not  the  leaf  of  a  tree  was  stirring ;  one  could  dis- 
tinguish the  deep  breathing  of  the  sleepers. 

At  such,  times  the  lightest  sound  fills  the  sleepless 
watcher  with  fear.  Sometimes  he  fancies  that  a 
man  hidden  beneath  the  bed  is  slowly  raising  his 
head,  or  that  someone  is  lifting  a  latch,  or  the 
wind  shakes  the  door  as  if  someone  were  rattling 
it  from  the  outside.  There  is  a  humming  and  a 
buzzing  all  around  one.  Night  beetles  have  some- 
how or  other  lit  upon  a  piece  of  paper,  and  they 
crinkle  it  so  that  it  soxmds  cls  if  someone  were 
writing  in  the  dark.  Out  in  the  street  men  seem  to 
be  running  to  and  fro  and  muttering  hoarsely  in 
each  other's  ears.  The  church  clocks  strike  one 
after  another,  thrice,  four  times — one  cannot  tell 
how  often.  The  time  is  horribly  long  and  the 
night  is  an  abyss  of  blackness. 

On  a  bed  of  straw,  with  a  coarse  coverlet  thrown 


30  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

over  ihem,  the  headsman's  two  apprentices  sleep 
side  by  side.  Are  they  really  asleep?  Can  they 
sleep  at  all  in  such  a  place?  Yet  their  eyes  are 
closed.  No,  one  of  them  is  not  asleep.  When  he 
perceives  that  his  comrade  does  not  move,  he  slowly 
pushes  the  coverlet  from  off  him  and  creeps  on  all 
fours  into  the  inner  room;  there  he  lies  down  flat 
on  his  stomach  and  peeps  through  a  crevice  in  the 
rafters.  Then  he  arises,  creeps  on  tiptoe  to  the 
chimney  and  knocks  at  the  partition  wall  three 
times,  then  he  climbs  down  from  his  loft  by  means 
of  a  ladder,  withdraws  the  ladder  from  the  opening, 
and  whistles  to  the  watch-dog  to  come  forth.  One 
can  hear  how  the  chained  beast  scratches  his  neck, 
and  growling  and  sniffing  lies  down  before  the 
door  of  the  loft 

Meanwhile  the  other  apprentice  has  been  care- 
fully observing  every  movement  of  his  companion 
with  half-open  eyes.  Whenever  the  first  riser  turns 
towards  him  he  feigns  to  be  asleep ;  but  as  soon  as 
he  takes  his  eyes  off  him  he  opens  his  own  eyes 
again  and  looks  after  him. 

When  the  last  sound  has  died  away,  he  also 
arises  from  his  sleepless  couch  and  looks  through 
that  crevice  mto  the  inner  room  through  which  his 
comrade  had  looked  before.  It  was  easy  to  find, 
the  ray  of  a  lamp  pierced  through  the  crevice  in  the 
beam,  and  that  ray  comes  from  the  hangman's 
bedroom. 

Carefully  he  bends  down  and  looks  through  this 
little  peep-holc» 


THE   HEADSMAN'S  FAMILY.  31 

He  sees  before  him  a  room  furnished  with  the 
most  rigorous  simplicity.  Close  to  the  wall  stands 
a  black  chest,  fastened  with  three  locks;  in  the 
middle  of  the  room  is  a  strong  wooden  table; 
further  away  are  two  beds,  a  large  one  and  a  small 
one ;  there  are  also  two  armless  four-legged  chairs ; 
in  the  window  recess  are  a  few  shabby  books; 
above  the  beds  is  a  heavy  blunderbuss.  The  pale 
light  of  the  lamp  falls  upon  the  table.  Sitting 
beside  it  is  a  child  reading  out  of  the  Bible.  At 
the  feet  of  the  child  lies  a  man  with  his  face  pressed 
down  to  the  ground. 

The  man  is  of  mighty  stature — a  giant,  and  he 
lays  down  his  head,  covered  with  a  wildered  shock 
of  grey  hair,  at  the  feet  of  a  child  whose  beauty 
rivets  the  eye  and  makes  the  heart  stand  still. 

It  is  a  pretty  little  light-haired  angel,  twelve  or 
thirteen  years  of  age,  her  hair  is  of  a  silvery  lightness, 
like  soft  feather-grass  or  moonbeams,  her  face  is 
of  a  heavenly  whiteness,  she  has  the  smile  of  an 
angel.  The  smile  of  this  white  face  is  so  unearthly, 
that  neither  joy  nor  good-humour  is  reflected  from 
it,  but  something  of  a  higher  order,  which  the  human 
heart  is  not  pure  enough  to  comprehend. 

The  old  man  lies  there  on  tlie  ground,  with  his 
fingers  clutching  his  grey  locks,  and  the  ground  on 
which  his  face  has  rested  is  wet  But  the  little 
girl,  with  hair  like  soft  feather-grass,  reads  with  a 
honey-sweet  voice  verses  full  of  mercy  and  pardon 
from  the  Holy  Book.  From  time  to  time  her  little 
fingers  turn  a  leaf  over,  and  whenever  she  comes  to 


5i  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

the  name  of  the  Lord  she  raises  gentle  eyes  full  of 
devout  reverence. 

"  Pray,  pray,  my  angel,  go  on  praying !  God  will 
hear  thy  words.  Oh !  thy  father  is  indeed  a  sinner, 
a  great,  great  sinner !  " 

The  child  leant  over  him,  kissed  his  grey  head,  and 
went  on  reading. 

The  old  man  fell  a-weeping  bitterly. 

"Oh!  thy  father's  hands  are  so  bloody!  Who 
can  ever  wash  them  clean?  I  have  killed  so  many 
mett  who  never  offended  me,  never  did  me  any 
harm.  Oh!  how  they  feared  death!  how  sad  they 
were  as  they  waited  for  me!  how  they  looked  and 
looked  to  see  whether  a  white  flag  would  not  be 
hoisted  after  all!  Oh!  how  they  begged  and 
prayed,  how  they  kissed  my  hands  in  order  that  J 
might  wait  a  moment,  but  one  moment  more — life 
was  so  sweet  to  them,  yes,  so  sweet!  And  yet  I 
had  to  kill  them.  I  murdered  them' — ^because  the 
law  commanded  it" 

A  deep  and  bitter  sob  choked  the  old  man's 
voice. 

"Who  will  answer  for  me  when  God  asks  in  a 
voice  of  thunder :  *  Who  has  dared  to  deal  out  death 
— ^the  prerogative  of  God  alone?  *  Who  will  answer 
for  me,  who  will  defend  me,  when  my  judges  will 
be  so  many  pale,  cold  shapes,  me  in  whose  hands 
were  Death  and  Terror?  And  if  we  meet  together 
above  there — or,  perchance,  down  below,  we,  the 
executioner  and  the  executed,  and  sit  down  at  one 
table  1    ohl    those    bloody    souls! — ^moving   about 


THE  HEADSMAN'S  FAMILY.  33 

headless,  perchance,  even  in  the  other  world,  oh! 
horrible,  horrible !  To  have  to  answer  for  the  head 
of  a  man !  And  what  if  he  were  innocent  besides, 
what  if  the  judge  erred,  and  the  blood  of  the  con- 
demned cries  out  to  Heaven  for  vengeance?  Alas! 
oh,  Mighty  Heavenly  Father  I  " 

The  grey-headed  giant  writhed  on  the  ground 
convulsively,  and  smote  his  bosom  with  his  clenched 
fists.  One  could  now  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  face. 
It  was  a  hard,  weather-beaten  countenance,  bronzed 
by  the  suns  of  many  a  year,  large  patches  of  his 
beard  were  grizzled,  but  his  eyebrows  were  of  a 
deep  black.  He  was  quite  beside  himself,  every 
muscle  writhed  and  quivered. 

The  Httle  girl  knelt  down  beside  him  and  tenderly 
stroked  his  sweat-covered  forehead,  took  his  head 
into  her  lap,  and  did  not  seem  to  fear  him  terrible 
as  he  looked — like  one  of  the  damned  on  the  verge 
of  the  grave. 

The  old  man  kissed  the  girl's  hands  and  feet, 
and  timidly,  tenderly  embracing  her  with  his  large, 
muscular,  tremulous  arms,  bent  over  her,  hid  his  face 
in  her  lap,  and  sobbing  and  groaning,  spoke  in  a 
voice  near  to  choking — it  was  as  though  his  very 
soul  was  bursting  away  from  his  bosom  along  with 
these  terrible  wordsw 

"  Look,  my  little  girl ! — once  the  judges  con- 
demned a  young  man  to  death — ^my  God !  there  was 
no  trace  of  a  beard  upon  his  face,  so  young  was  he. 
For  three  days  he  was  placed  in  the  pillory,  and 
everybody  wept  who  beheld  himr— the  youth  was 

C 


34  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

accused  of  having  murdered  his  father.  He  could 
not  deny  that  he  slept  in  the  same  room,  and  a 
bloody  knife  was  concealed  in  the  bed.  In  vain 
he  said  that  he  was  innocent,  in  vain  he  called  God 
to  witness — ^he  must  needs  die.  On  the  day  when 
he  was  beheaded,  two  women,  weeping  and  wailing, 
and  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  ran  beside  the  felon's 
car  to  the  place  of  execution.  One  was  his  dear 
mother,  the  other  his  loving  sister.  In  vain  they 
screamed  that  he  was  innocent,  that  he  ought  not 
to  die,  and,  even  if  he  were  guilty  they  forgave  him 
the  mourning  dresses  they  wore,  though  they  were 
the  sufferers  and  had  lost  everything.  It  was  use- 
less, he  must  needs  die.  When  he  sat  down  in  front 
of  me  in  the  chair  of  death,  and  took  off  his  clothes, 
even  then  he  turned  to  me  and  said :  *  Woe  is  me 
that  I  must  die,  for  I  am  innocent.'  I  bound  up  his 
eyes.  But  my  hand  shook  as  I  aimed  the  blow  at 
him,  and  the  blood  that  spurted  on  to  my  hand 
burnt  like  fire.  Oh,  my  child!  that  blood  was 
innocent.  A  year  ago  I  executed  a  notorious  high- 
wayman, and  as  I  was  ascending  the  ladder  with 
him,  he  turned  and  laughed  in  my  face :  *  Ha,  ha !  * 
cried  he,  *it  was  in  this  very  place  that  you  be- 
headed a  fine  young  fellow  whom  they  accused  of 
having  murdered  his  father ;  it  was  I  who  killed  that 
father  of  his  and  hid  the  knife  in  his  bed,  and  now 
hang  me  up  and  look  sharp  about  it'  Oh,  my  child, 
thou  fair  angel,  beseech  God  that  Ke  will  let  me 
forget  those  words !  " 
"  Go  to  sleep,  go  to  sleep,  my  good  father.    God 


THE   HEADSMAN'S   FAMILY.  35 

is  good,  God  is  wrath  with  no  man.  Why  dost 
thou  weep?  Thou  art  not  a  bad  man,  surely,  else 
thou  wouldst  not  love  me.  Look  now!  Last 
summer  two  children  went  from  the  village  into  the 
woods  to  pluck  flowers,  there  Heaven's  warfare 
overtook  them,  and  when  they  sought  a  refuge 
beneath  a  tree  to  avoid  the  rain,  the  lightning  struck 
both  of  them  dead.  Yet  the  lightning  is  God's  own 
weapon,  and  both  the  children  were  innocent  God 
knows  wherefore  He  gives  life  and  death,  we  dp  not 
Go  to  sleep,  my  good  father!  God  is  ever)rwhere 
near  us,  and  turns  away  from  nobody  who  lifts  up 
his  eyes  towards  Him.  Look,  I  see  Him  every- 
where. He  watches  over  me  when  I  sleep.  He 
holds  me  by  the  hand  when  I  walk  in  the  darkness ; 
I  see  Him  if  I  look  up  at  the  sky,  I  see  Him  when 
I  cast  down  my  eyes.  He  abandons  nobody.  Kiss 
me  and  go  to  sleep !  '* 

The  big  muscular  man  slowly  struggled  to  his 
knees.  He  pressed  the  fair  child  to  his  bosom  and 
raised  his  hard  rough  face.  He  looked  up,  his  lips 
quivered,  he  seemed  to  be  praying,  and  his  tears 
flowed  apace.  Then  he  stood  up,  and  the  little 
girl  embraced  his  arm,  that  huge  arm  of  his  like  the 
trunk  of  a  tree.  Fumbling  his  way  along,  he 
allowed  himself  to  be  led  to  his  bed,  and  plunged 
down  upon  it  fully  dressed  as  he  was.  After  turn- 
ing about  restlessly  for  a  moment  or  two,  a  loud 
snore  like  thunder,  which  made  the  whole  room 
vibrate,  proclaimed  that  he  had  fallen  asleep  at 
last    But  his  slumbers  were  restless  and  uneasy. 


^6  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

Frequently  he  would  start  and  cry  aloud  as  if  in 
agony,  or  utter  broken  unintelligible  half  sentences 
and  groan  horribly. 

But  the  fair  little  girl  extinguished  the  lamp 
before  she  got  ready  to  lie  down  herself.  The  pale 
light  of  the  moon  shone  through  the  window  and 
made  her  face  whiter,  her  hair  more  silvery  than 
ever,  as  if  by  enchantment  It  shone  right  upon  her 
snow-white  bed.  It  shone  upon  her  soft  eyebrows, 
her  smiling  face,  upon  her  sweet  lips  as  they  tremu- 
lously prayed. 

So  slumber  came  upon  her  in  the  shape  of  a 
snow-white  moonbeam.  With  a  smiling  face,  hands 
clasped  together,  and  praying  lips,  she  fell  asleep — 
and  her  guardian  angel  stood  at  the  head  of  her 
snow-white  bed. 

The  youth  had  watched  the  whole  scene  through 
the  rift  in  the  door  with  bated  breath  and  great 
amazement.  When  he  rose  to  his  feet,  he  remained 
for  a  long  time,  rapt  in  a  brown  study,  leaning 
against  the  wall  and  staging  blankly  before  him, 
lost  in  wonder  that  two  such  different  beings 
should  be  slumbering  together  beneath  the  same 
roof. 

He  sighed  deeply.  In  the  stillness  of  the  night 
it  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  heard  the  echo  of  his  own 
sigh  coming  back  to  him  in  whispering  words.  He 
listened  attentively — ^he  could  plainly  distinguish 
the  deep  droning  voice  of  the  headsman*s  wife, 
which  seemed  to  him  to  come  from  somewhere 
below  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  house. 


THE   HEADSMAN'S   FAMILY.  37 

He  went  in  the  direction  of  the  voice,  and  when 
he  came  to  the  place  where  his  comrade  had 
knocked  thrice  on  the  boards  near  the  chimney,  he 
distinctly  heard  two  people  talking  to  each  other 
in  a  low  voice.  It  was  the  headsman's  wife  and 
her  lover. 

The  youth  turned  away  full  of  loathing.  Never- 
theless, it  soon  occurred  to  him  that  this  tempestuous 
tke-a-tHe  could  have  little  to  do  with  love.  The 
voice  of  the  headsman's  wife  frequently  arose  in 
anger. 

"  Let  him  go  to  hell ! "  he  heard  her  exclaim. 

"Hush!  hush!"  murmured  the  young  'prentice, 
*  somebody  might  overhear  us." 

"  Pooh !  God  and  men  both  slumber  now." 

What  could  they  be  talking  about?  Whom  did 
they  want  to  harm  ?  Such  folks  had  it  not  in  them 
to  love  anyone.  Woe  to  those  whom  they  had 
cause  to  remember! 

So  he  crept  softly  to  the  spot  and  listened. 

**If  these  people  should  rise  they  will  not  leave 
one  stone  upon  another,"  the  headsman's  apprentice 
was  saying. 

"And  do  you  suppose  they  will  rise  up  because 
you  tell  them  to?" 

"  I  have  thought  the  matter  well  out.  The  com- 
mon folks  about  here  do  not  love  their  masters, 
there  is  no  reason  why  they  should.  Their  lords 
have  kicked  and  cuffed  and  spat  upon  them,  and 
treated  them  worse  than  dogs.  You  have  but  to 
cast  a  burning  fagot  into  the  mass  of  discontent, 


38  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

and  it  will  flcime  up  at  once.  Even  the  wisest 
among  them  who  do  know  something  about  it,  are 
the  most  narrow-minded.  If  there  be  two  versions 
of  a  matter  they  always  believe  the  most  absurd 
one.  I  told  them  to  be  on  their  guaxd  against 
danger.  I  told  them  to  look  after  their  wells  and 
their  granaries,  as  their  masters  wanted  to  poison 
them.  When  they  asked  why?  I  told  them  that 
the  whole  kingdom  was  surrounded  on  every  side 
by  enemies,  and  the  gentry  wanted  to  raise  a  pesti- 
lence in  the  kingdom  to  keep  the  enemy  out  of  it 
At  my  words  the  common  people  at  once  became 
suspicious,  for  they  have  heard  for  a  long  time  that 
the  gentry  were  expecting  a  pestilence,  and  as  this 
was  the  first  explanation  of  the  prophesied  epidemic 
that  had  come  to  their  ears,  they  believed  it  at  once. 
Suspicion  is  contagious.  And  as  the  gentry  have 
since  had  the  imprudence  to  order  a  separate  grave- 
yard to  be  dug  for  the  corpses  of  those  who  may 
die  of  the  cholera  (naturally  in  order  to  prevent 
the  dead  bodies  from  spreading  the  contcigion),  the 
common  folks  have  believed  my  words  as  if  I  were 
a  prophet,  and  quite  expect  that  the  gentry  are 
going  to  poison  the  poor  people.  The  digging  of 
the  churchyard  they  take  to  be  a  first  move  in  that 
direction." 
"  Devilish  clever  of  you,  Ivan,  I  must  say." 
"  And  then  don't  forget  the  announcement  of  the 
Kassa  doctors  to  the  effect  that  if  the  common 
folks  will  not  take  the  salutajy  bismuth  powder 
volimtarily,  it  must  be  forced  upon  them,  thrown 


THE  HEADSMAN'S   FAMILY.  39 

into  their  wells  and  scattered  about  their  bams. 
It  looks  as  if  everyone  was  intent  upon  playing  into 
our  hands." 

"Does  the  young  chap  upstairs  suspect  ciny- 
thing?" 

"  I  don't  think  so,  but  let  us  speak  in  a  lower  tone. 
I  promised  to  hide  him  here.  He  fancies  he  has 
shot  his  captain  dead.  He  caught  him  with  his 
sweetheart  and  banged  away  at  him;  the  man  fell 
to  the  ground,  but  he  did  not  die.  But  the  young 
fellow  ran  away  and  deserted  his  colours.  I  have 
been  persuading  him  to  desert  for  a  long  time,  as 
I  had  need  of  him.  This,  in  fact,  is  the  third  time 
he  has  deserted,  and  if  they  catch  him  now  they 
will  undoubtedly  string  him  up.  Not  a  bad  idea 
for  him  to  fly  to  the  headsman's  house,  eh?  They 
will  seek  him  everywhere  but  under  the  gallows- 
tree.  And  if  they  find  him  here,  they  won't  have 
very  much  more  trouble  with  him,  that's  all." 

"  Ho,  ho,  ho !     Suppose  he  were  to  hear  you  ?  " 

And  he  did  hear! 

"  You  see,  this  was  my  object  all  along.  I  shall 
put  his  pursuers  on  his  track  in  any  case,  and  they 
will  capture  him  here  and  take  him  to  Hetfalu,  where 
the  court-martial  will  pronounce  sentence  of  death, 
and  then  have  him  exposed  in  the  pillory.  All  the 
common  folk  about  Hetfalu  love  the  youth  as  if  he 
was  their  own  son,  but  they  hate  his  father  like  the 
devil  It  will  be  no  very  great  masterpiece  to  stir 
up  the  people  in  these  troublous  times,  and  when 
they  see  the  young  fellow  led  out  to  be  hanged  the}' 


40  tKiE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

will  be  qtiite  ready  to  seize  their  scythes  and  dung- 
fdtksi  set  him  free,  raise  him  on  their  shoulders,  and 
rush  with  him  to  the  castle  of  his  father  (who,  hy 
the  way,  has  done  his  best  to  hound  his  son  to 
death),  and  level  it  with  the  ground,  and  there 
you  have  a  peasant  revolt  in  full  swing  straight 
oflF." 

"  But  will  the  lad  consent  to  be  put  at  the  head  of 
such  an  enterprise?  " 

"  Never  fear !  Death  is  an  awful  prospect  There 
is  no  road,  however  terrible,  which  a  man  will  not 
take  in  order  to  avoid  it.  Besides,  at  such  times 
d  man  is  not  himself,  but  does  everything  almost 
Uhconsciously,  and  thus  our  names  will  not  appear 
in  the  business  at  all;  and  if  it  is  put  down,  he 
will  be  looked  upon  as  the  ringleader.  Not  the 
shadow  of  a  suspicion  will  fall  upon  us." 

"  Bravo,  Ivan !  I  could  kiss  you  for  this.** 

"  A  mOre  amazing  popular  rebellion  than  this  will 
be  has  never  been  known.  From  village  to  village 
the  rumour  will  fly  that  his  own  son  has  risen 
against  his  poisoner  of  a  father  at  the  head  of  the 
people,  has  cut  to  pieces  every  member  of  his 
family,  and  levelled  his  ancestral  halls  to  the  ground. 
He  will  be  looked  upon  as  a  public  avenger. 
Horribly  black  rumours  will  be  noised  abroad  all  over 
the  kingdom,  and  at  the  tidings  thereof  the  people 
Will  run  downright  mad  with  savage  fury,  and  the 
gentry  will  not  know  which  way  to  turn  to  escape 
the  unforeseen  danger  which  will  suddenly  break 
out  att  their  very  doora** 


THE   HEADSMAN'S   FAMILY.  41 

**You  are  the  Devil's  own  son,  Ivan;  come  and 
let  me  cuddle  yott" 

The  youth  rose  from  the  chimney-place  trembling 
in  every  limb.     He  had  heard  every  word  they  said 

For  an  instant  he  remained  standing  there  quite 
beside  himself,  half  mad,  half  senseless  from  sheer 
terror  and  amazement  Presently  he  began  to  gaze 
about  him  with  desperate  alertness,  like  a  wild 
beast  that  has  fallen  into  a  trap  and  looks  eagerly 
for  a  way  out  of  it,  rallying  all  its  powers  for  a  final 
struggle,  becoming  resourceful  and  inventive  in  pro- 
portion to  its  peril,  and  forgetting  the  very  instinct 
of  life  in  the  longing  for  freedom,  at  last  gets  to 
fear  nobody  and  nothing.  After  fruitless  struggles 
it  surrenders  in  despair,  Hes  down,  closes  its  eyes, 
and  the  next  instant  once  more  begins  the  hopeless 
fight  for  liberty. 

The  youth  looked  down  through  the  opening  in 
the  floor.  The  ladder  had  been  removed,  and  in 
tlie  courtyard  below  a  big  shaggy  dog  was  slouch- 
ing surlily  about  and  shaking  its  collar^  and  from 
time  to  time  it  would  tear  at  its  skin  with  its  teeth 
dr  worry  its  tail  and  bay  at  the  moon. 

And  now  there  is  a  good  sharp  knife  in  the 
youth's  hands.  He  sticks  it  between  his  teeth  and 
looks  carefully  around  him.  In  case  of  need  he 
would  have  risked  a  fight  with  the  dog,  and  perhaps 
killed  it ;  but  this  could  not  happen  without  a  great 
deal  of  noise,  and  he  wished,  at  any  price,  to  escape 
unnoticed. 

The  fence,  too,  surrounding'  the  Cnclosvure,  waa 


42  THE   DAY   OF   WRATH. 

very  high,  how  was  he  to  get  over  it?  Nowhere 
could  he  see  the  ladder. 

At  the  extreme  end  of  the  house,  right  opposite 
the  windows  of  the  headsman^s  bedroom,  was  a 
large  mulberry  tree,  whose  wide-spreading  branches 
bent  down  over  the  roof  of  the  house.  With  the 
help  of  these  branches  one  could  easily  get  to  the 
fence,  and  then  a  bold  leap  down  from  the  top  of 
it  would  do  the  rest 

Like  a  panther  escaping  from  its  cage  the  young 
man  crept  along  the  narrow  window-ledge  of  the 
garret  with  his  knife  between  his  teeth.  Wriggling 
along  on  his  belly  he  clutched  hold  of  the  ridge  of 
the  house,  and  crawled  cautiously  on  till  he  came 
to  the  branches  of  the  mulberry-tree,  then  he  seized 
an  overhanging  branch,  clambered  up  it  and  scram- 
bled to  the  very  end  of  it — and  all  so  quietly, 
without  making  the  least  noise. 

From  the  extreme  edge  of  the  branch,  however, 
to  the  top  of  the  fence  he  had  to  make  a  timely 
spring,  and  in  so  doing  overestimated  the  strength 
of  the  branch  on  which  he  stood — ^with  a  great  crash 
it  broke  beneath  him,  and  he  remained  clinging  like 
grim  death  to  the  fence  half-way  up. 

At  the  sound  of  the  snapping  branch  the  watch- 
dog became  aware  of  the  fugitive,  and  rushed 
barking  towards  him ;  and  while  he  was  struggling 
with  all  his  might  to  scramble  up  to  the  top  of  the 
fence  it  seized  him  by  one  of  the  tails  of  his  coat 
and  furiously  tried  to  drag  him  down. 

"Who  is  that?"  a  loud  voice  suddenly  roared 


THE   HEADSMAN'S   FAMILY.  43 

The  headsman  had  been  aroused  by  the  noise 
outside  his  window,  and  was  now  looking  down 
into  the  courtyard.  He  there  perceived  a  man 
quite  unknown  to  him  clambering  up  the  fence, 
while  the  dog  was  tugging  away  at  him  to  bring 
him  down.  "  Ho,  there !  stop,  whoever  you  are !  " 
he  thundered,  and  mad  with  rage  he  seized  the 
musket  and  took  aim  at  the  fugitive.  His  eyes 
were  wild  and  bloodshot. 

Then  a  white  hand  lowered  the  weapon,  and  a 
clear  ringing  childish  voice  from  behind  him 
exclaimed : 

"Wilt  thou  slay  yet  again,  oh,  my  father?" 
The  man's  hand  sank  down.  For  a  moment  he 
was  motionless,  and  his  face  grew  very  pale.  Then 
the  calm  look  of  self-possession  came  back  to  him. 
He  embraced  the  child  who  had  pushed  the  gun 
aside.  Then  he  took  aim  once  more.  There  was 
a  loud  report,  and  the  watch-dog,  without  so  much 
as  a  yelp,  fell  to  the  ground  stiff  and  stark.  The 
fugitive  with  a  final  effort  leaped  over  the  fence. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

A  CHILDISH  MALEFACTOR. 

That  house  which  stands  all  deserted  in  the  middle 
of  Hetfalu  was  not  always  of  such  a  doleful  appear- 
ance. 

Its  windows  which  are  now  nailed  up  or  bricked 
in  were  once  full  of  flowers  ;  those  trees  which  now 
stand  around  it  all  dried  up  and  withered  as  if  in 
mourning  for  their  masters,  and  with  no  wish  to 
g^ow  green  again  after  the  many  horrors  which  have 
taken  place  among  them,  those  trees,  I  say,  once 
threw  an  opulent  shade  on  the  marble  bench  placed 
beneath  them^  where  a  grave  old  gentleman  used  to 
sit  of  an  evening  and  rejoice  in  the  splendid  wall- 
flowers with  which  the  courtyard  abounded. 

Yes,  he  could  rejoice  in  the  sweet  flowers  although 
his  own  heart  was  full  of  thorns. 

This  old  gentleman  was  Benjamin  Hetfalusy. 

In  front  of  those  two  windows  which  look  out 
upon  the  garden,  and  which  are  now  walled  up,  a 
solitary  vine  had  been  planted,  whose  branches, 
crowded  with  fruit,  climbed  up  to  the  very  roof  of 


A  CHILDISH   MALEFACTOR,  45 

the  house.  Now  it  lies  all  wildered  on  the  ground, 
and  its  immature  berries  twine  themselves  round 
the  nearest  bushes. 

Those  windows  were  once  thickly  curtained 
The  yellow  silk  curtains  inundated  with  a  sickly 
light  a  room  where  everything  was  so  still,  so  sad. 

There  was  an  invalid  in  the  house,  little  Neddy, 
the  son  of  Benjamin  Hetfalusy's  daughter,  the  son 
of  that  once  so  haughty  gentlewoman,  Leonora 
Hetfalusy. 

This  poor  lady  had  been  visited  by  many  a 
terrible  calamity.  After  a  youth  passed  amidst 
feverish  excitements,  she  had  married  Squire 
Szephalmi,  and  there  had  been  two  children  of  this 
marriage,  a  son  and  a  daughter.  Edward  aind 
Emma  were  their  names.  The  children  were  con- 
stantly bickering  with  each  other,  but  this  after  all 
is  only  what  happens  every  day  with  brothers  and 
sisters. 

One  day  the  little  girl  disappeared,  nobody  knew 
what  had  become  of  her.  They  searched  for  her  in 
the  woods  and  in  the  fields,  and  in  the  pond  close 
by;  they  explored  the  whole  country  side,  their 
little  pet  daughter  was  nowhere  to  be  found. 

From  that  very  day  Neddy  fell  sick.  He  lost 
his  fresh  ruddy  colour.  He  could  neither  eat  nor 
sleep.  They  laid  him  on  his  bed,  a  fever  tormented 
hiro.  At  night  he  would  wander  in  his  speech,  and 
at  such  times  he  would  constantly  be  calling  for  his 
little  sister  Emma ;  he  would  cry  out  and  weep,  and 
his  features  would  stiffen  and  his  eyes  would  alniost 


46  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

start   out    of   his    head    till    he    looked    like   one 
possessed. 

The  doctors  said  that  it  was  epilepsy.  They 
treated  him  in  every  possible  way.  It  was  all  of 
no  avail.  He  grew  worse  from  day  to  day,  and  his 
father  and  mother  stood  and  wept  by  his  bed 
morning  after  morning. 


It  was  one  of  those  evenings  when  the  wind  rages 
outside  and  dashes  rain  mingled  with  hail  against 
the  window-panes.  The  child  was  crying  and 
moaning  in  his  bed,  out  of  doors  the  dogs  were 
howling,  the  wind  was  whistling,  and  the  freely- 
swinging  pump-handle  creaked  and  groaned  like  a 
shrieking  ghost 

"  Ah ! "  wailed  the  sick  child  in  his  sleep,  half 
rising  up.  "  Emma !  Let  in  little  Emma !  Don't 
you  hear  how  she  is  crying  outside — she  cannot 
get  through  the  door  .  .  .  she  is  shivering,  she  is 
afraid  of  the  dark  ...  go  out  and  look  .  .  .  1 " 

"There  is  nobody  outside,  my  darling,  nobody, 
my  poor  sick  little  soa" 

"  There  is,  there  is.  I  hear  someone  scratching 
at  the  door,  fumbling  at  the  latch ;  she  is  stroking 
the  dogs ;  don't  you  hear  how  she  is  moaning,  dear, 
dear  mother,  don't  you  hear  it?  " 

"  Go  to  sleep,  my  sick  darling,  nobody  is  coming 
here,  the  whole  house  is  locked  up." 

"  She  is  dead,  she  is  dead,"  whined  the  little  boy 


A  CHILDISH  MALEFACTOR.  47 

in  his  delirium.  "Wicked  men  killed  her  when 
she  went  into  the  woods  to  pluck  flowers.  They 
tied  a  stone  to  her  feet  and  sank  her  in  the  yellow 
pond.  Oh!  oh!  why  don't  you  make  haste?  She 
will  be  drowned  directly.  Oh !  oh !  how  bloody  her 
forehead  is !  " 

In  the  comer  of  the  room  was  the  father  on  his 
knees  praying.  The  mother  with  tearful  eyes  kept 
on  spreading  the  bed-clothes  over  the  sick  child, 
and  the  grey-headed  grandfather  stared  stupidly 
in  front  of  him. 

"  Hark !  Don't  you  hear  Kttle  Emma  weeping 
there  again?  She  has  not  been  properly  buried 
beneath  the  ground,  she  wants  to  come  out  Hush ! 
hush!  Don't  go,  don't  go,  then  perhaps  she  will 
stop  crying." 

Outside  the  tempest  was  shaking  the  trees. 

"  Oh,  oh !  There's  a  knocking  at  the  door !  They 
have  come  for  me.  They  want  to  kill  me.  They 
are  bringing  little  Emma.  Oh,  do  not  let  them  in ! 
Tell  them  that  I  am  not  here!  Lock  the  door! 
^Father,  father,  don't  leave  me." 

It  was  hideous  to  see  the  expression  of  despair 
on  the  round  childish  face  all  covered  with  sweat. 
They  are  wont  to  paint  little  children  in  the  shape 
of  angels.  If  it  should  ever  occur  to  a  painter  to 
paint  a  four-year-old  child  as  a  devil,  as  a  fallen 
accursed  spirit,  it  might  be  such  a  face  as  his  was. 

"  Oh,  God,  have  mercy  upon  him,  and  take  him 
to  Thee,"  sobbed  the  grandfather,  hiding  his  face 
on  the  table.     He  could  not  endure  to  look  upon 


48  THE   DAY   OF   WRATH. 

the  superhuipan  torments  of  the  child,  while  the 
weak,  helpless  father  cried  in  the  bitterness  of  his 
heart,  "it  is  my  only  son,  my  dearest,  fairest 
hope." 

Tbe  child  made  as  if  it  would  fly  or  hide  itself. 
It  leaped  up  in  its  bed  incessantly,  and  saw  hideous 
shapes  abound  it  gud  raved  about  them,  and  writhed 
and  struggled  like  one  attacked  by  a  serpent. 

"  Come,  my  daughter,  come,  my  son ! "  sobbed 
old  Benjamin,  going  down  upon  his  knees.  "  Kneel 
beside  me,  let  us  pray  for  him ;  if  our  sins  are  ripe 
for  punishment,  let  the  pupishment  fall  upon  our 
heg.ds,  not  upon  the  child's." 

And  the  three  elders  knelt  down  beside  the  bed, 
and  held  each  other  by  the  hand  and  wept,  and 
called  upon  God,  and  prayed  Him  to  heal  the  child. 

At  that  moment  three  violent  blows  from  a 
clenched  fist  were  heard  upon  the  door.  The  dogs 
ran  howling  to  the  other  end  of  the  courtyard,  and 
a  shrill  piping  voice,  uttered  the  words : 

"Death!  death!" 

The  old  grandfather  leaped  up  from  his  knees 
like  one  beside  himself  with  rage.  Cursing  aloud, 
he  snatched  his  gun  from  the  wall,  rushed  into  the 
courtyard  and  looked  about  for  whomsoever  had 
uttered  that  cry  thpit  he  might  shxx>t  the  wretch 
down  like  a  dog. 

Perchance  if  that  cry  had  come  from  Heaven  he 
would  have  fired  up  at  Heaven  itself! 

What !  to  cry  out  "  Death  "  to  the  Amen  of  those 
who  \ve|re  praying  for  life! 


A  CHILDISH  MALEFACTOR.  49 

And  again  that  ear-piercing  voice  cried  t  "  Death, 
death!" — it  sounded  like  the  whoop  of  a  screech-owl. 

The  "  death-bird,"  as  they  called  her,  was  stand- 
ing there  in  front  of  the  trellised  gate  with  her 
eyes  fixed  on  the  windows,  her  face  was  as  pale  as 
the  face  of  a  corpse,  and  her  white  hair  was  flutter- 
ing in  the  tempestuous  night 

"  It  is  thine  own  death  thou  hast  prophesied,  thou 
crazy  witch,  thou !  "  thundered  old  Benjamin,  and 
he  fired  his  g^  at  her  at  ten  paces. 

The  "  death-bird  "  stared  at  him  without  moving 
a  muscle.  Old  Benjamin,  in  a  sort  of  stupor,  let 
the  weapon  fall  out  of  his  hand ;  it  never  occurred 
to  him  that  he  had  extracted  the  bullet  himself 
beforehand  lest  in  a  moment  of  distraction  he  might 
blow  his  own  brains  out 

"What  dost  thou  want,  Benjamin?"  asked  the 
old  woman  in  a  calm  mocking  voice.  "  Death 
comes  not  from  thee,  but  to  thee.  Nobody  can 
kill  me.  Death  has  passed  me  by,  he  does  not 
think  of  me,  he  does  not  trouble  himiself  about  me, 
he  has  turned  me  into  a  living  spirit  I  am  old  and 
ugly.  Death  cares  not  for  such  as  I.  He  too  has 
a  liking  for  youth  and  beauty,  for  pretty  young 
women  like  thy  daughter,  for  strong  gallant  young 
fellows  like  thy  son-in-law,  for  tender,  rosy  chicks 
like  thy  grandchildren,  and  for  fat  ripe  corn  like 
thyself,  saddled  with  more  sins  than  the  hairs  of  thy 
head.  Benjamin  Hetfalusy,  I  have  looked  upon  thee 
as  a  young  man,  when  thou  didst  chicane  me  put  of 
my  house,  and  tear  from  my  hands  the  dry  crusts  I 


so  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

lived  upon.  And  thou  hast  grown  fat  upon  it  too. 
But  the  bread  that  is  wet  with  the  tears  of  orjDhans 
cries  to  Heaven  for  vengeance,  the  blessing  of  God 
rests  not  upon  it  Thou  art  old  and  thou  wilt  die. 
Thou  shalt  leave  none  behind  thee,  thou  shalt  bury 
all  whom  thou  didst  ever  love.  But  I  shall  remain 
alive  to  see  thy  grave.  I  shall  survive  thee  that 
I  may  see  everything  that  once  belonged  to  thee  lie 
desolate.  And  this  fine  house  of  thine  shall  remain 
empty — these  trees  shall  fade  away  and  wither  one 
by  one — strangers  shall  divide  thy  lands  among 
them.  And  now  go  home,  for  thou  shalt  not  dwell 
there  long.  When  thou  liest  outside  I  will  come 
and  visit  thee  yonder !  " 

The  "  death-bird "  drew  herself  up  straight  at 
these  words,  she  seemed  as  big  again  as  her  usual  old 
shrunken  self,  and  pointed  towards  the  churchyard 
with  her  crutch. 

The  dogs  howled  dismally  behind  the  house  and 
durst  not  come  forward 

The  old  woman  collapsed  once  nxore.  Close 
to  the  trellis  gate  stood  a  large  heap  of  planks.  She 
reached  out  and  tapped  them  with  her  crutch. 
"  Good  timber  here  for  ever  so  many  nice  coffins !  " 
she  mumbled  to  herself,  and  tripped  away  coughing 
and  wheezing,  and  leaning  heavily  on  her  crutch. 

Benjamin  Hetfalusy  lay  senseless  in  his  own  court- 
yard, and  when  he  came  to  himself  he  was  unable 
to  utter  a  word.  He  had  had  a  stroke,  and  his 
tongue  was  tied 

Early  next  morning,  while  the  whole  house  was 


A  CHILDISH   MALEFACTOR,  51 

still  asleep,  Mrs.  Szephalmi,  all  alone,  stealthily  and 
unobserved,  quitted  the  house  and  made  her  way 
across  the  park  to  old  Magdolna's  hut 

This  great  lady,  despite  an  outward  show  of 
culture,  believed  in  and  made  use  of  all  sorts  of 
charms  and  quackeries,  and  it  was  not  the  first  time, 
so  credulous  was  she,  that  she  had  turned  to  the 
old  woman  for  counsel  She  had  made  her  tell  her 
her  fortune  by  means  of  cards,  predict  the  future, 
brew  potions  for  her  which  would  make  her  husband 
faithful,  teach  her  spells  which  would  cause  flies 
and  other  vermin  to  vanish,  to  concoct  balsamic  cakes 
to  keep  the  skin  white — ^in  fact,  she  hung  upon 
every  word  the  old  crone  uttered 

Magdolna  kept  her  waiting  for  a  long  time  in 
the  yard  before  she  opened  the  door.  She  said, 
by  way  of  excuse,  that  she  had  been  praying,  then 
she  shut  the  door  behind  them. 

The  great  lady  sat  down  on  a  straw-covered 
chair  and  began  to  weep.  The  old  woman  crouched 
down  upon  a  stool  and  cleansed  some  mushrooms 
which  she  held  in  her  lap. 

"Dame  Magdolna,  can  you  not  help  my  son?" 
sobbed  Mrs.  Szephalmi 

"  No." 

"  I  will  give  all  I  have  to  whomsoever  can  cure 
him.  Oh!  if  you  could  only  see  how  much  he 
suffers,  nobody  ever  suffered  so  much  before." 

"  I  know  it,  and  he  will  suffer  still  more." 

"  The  doctors  cannot  cure  him." 

**  No  healing  herb  that  ever  grew  in  the  field  can 


5*  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

heal  him ;  it  would  be  all  one  even  if  you  bathed 
him  in  balm." 

"He  will  die?" 

"  Twould  be  good  for  his  soul  if  he  did  die." 

"What,  is  there  then  anything  worse  than  death?" 

"  Yes,  damnation !  " 

"You  are  raving.  A  child  who  four  years  ago 
was  an  angel  in  Heaven,  a  child  only  four  years  of 
age — damned !  " 

"  It  has  sinned  enough  to  suffice  for  a  long  life, 
enough  to  merit  damnation." 

"Then  for  such  a  sin  there  is  no  name  among  men." 

"  There  is  a  name  for  it,  terrible  and  accursed- 
the  murder  of  a  sister." 

"Merciful  God! — I  will  not  hearken  to  you." 

"  Why  do  you  ask  me,  then?  I  have  told  nobody. 
Go  home,  my  lady,  you  cannot  buy  the  mercy  of 
God  for  money." 

"  And  yet  there  must  be  something  in  it  He  is 
repeatedly  mentioning  his  sister's  name.  And — 
oh !  what  a  look  he  has  at  such  times !  " 

"  I  know  it.  His  groaning  can  be  heard  outside 
in  the  street  If  a  poor  man's  child  wailed  like 
that  they  would  pitch  it  down  a  well" 

"Speak!     How  cind  where  did  it  take  place?" 

"  The  children  were  playing  outside,  close  to  the 
pond,  I  was  on  the  opposite  side  plucking  healing 
plants.  Suddenly  the  two  children  caught  sight 
of  a  pretty  flower  on  a  high  rock.  They  both 
hastened  to  the  spot  to  pluck  it  The  girl  was 
the  quicker,  and  got  there  first,  and  when  she  had 


A  CHILDISH   MALEFACTOR.  $3 

plucked  the  flower  the  lad  began  to  quarrel  with 
her,  and  as  they  struggled  the  little  girl  fell  off  the 
rock,  her  head  struck  against  the  hard  root  of  a 
tree,  and  she  remained  motionless  on  the  spot  All 
pale  and  frightened  little  Cain  stood  beside  her, 
and  gazed  stupidly  at  the  blood  flowing  from  his 
sister's  forehead.  He  saw  that  he  had  killed  his 
sister,  and  in  vain  he  begged  and  prayed  her 
to  awake  again,  in  vain  he  pulled  her  about  Then 
he  began  to  cry  like  one  who  is  desperate,  and  ran 
towards  the  lake.  I  saw  him  gazing  into  the  water, 
and  he  gazed  into  it  for  a  long  time,  perhaps  he 
thought  of  drowning  himself.  He  shrank  back 
from  the  face  that  stared  at  him  from  the  surface 
of  the  water,  his  own  distorted  face.  Slowly  he 
crept  back  again,  his  face  was  as  white  as  death, 
and  his  lips  were  blue.  He  gazed  around  him  in 
every  direction  to  see  if  anybody  was  looking. 
Then  he  suddenly  put  his  arms  round  the  lifeless 
body,  and  with  a  strength  incredible  in  one  so 
young  he  dragged  it  to  a  ditch  which  was  thickly 
overgrown  with  bushes,  and  covered  it  over  with 
leaves  and  branches.  There  was  still  some  life  in 
the  little  girl,  for  when  the  lad  began  stamping  down 
the  heaped-up  leaves  with  his  feet,  she  groaned 
aloud  and  said :  *  Oh,  Neddy,  Neddy,  don't  bury 
me.  Emma  won't  cry.  Emma  won't  tell 
mamma!  *" 

"  Oh !  my  poor  little  girl !  " 

"  On  hearing  these  words  the  boy  took  to  his 
heds — ^he  ran  and  ran  till  he  fell  down  senseless 


54  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

in  the  wood.  There  some  swine-herds  found  him 
as  they  were  gathering  beech-mast,  and  since  then 
he  has  been  plagued  by  a  burning  fever-fit" 

"  It  is  Uke  a  frightful  nightmare." 

"I  tell  you  the  truth,  and  such  a  thing  is  only 
what  your  family  deserves — a  murderer  of  his  sister 
only  four  years  old!  Sins  like  yours  are  enough 
to  hasten  on  the  end  of  the  world." 

"And  where,  then,  is  the  poor  tiny  little  body 
of  my  innocent  child?  " 

**  I  sought  for  it  next  day,  but  I  qould  not  find  it 
On  the  very  day  of  the  evil  deed  I  durst  not  go 
there,  for  I  was  afraid  they  might  think  I  killed 
her.  Here  and  there  among  the  bushes  were  frag- 
ments of  a  little  pink  frock.  I  also  came  across  a 
tiny  red  slipper  with  a  golden  butterfly  on  it,  and 
some  gay  ribbons  which  must  have  tied  up  her 
hair.  I  have  often  heard  the  wolves  howl  at  night 
in  that  very  place.  They  can  tell  perhaps  where 
she  is." 

"Would  that  my  son  might  die  also!"  cried  the 
mother  in  the  anguish  of  her  despcur. 

"  He  would  die  even  if  you  did  not  wish  it  An 
old  man  might  live  perhaps  with  such  a  mental 
cancer,  but  it  will  destroy  a  child.  Ah !  there  is  no 
remedy  against  the  worms  that  gnaw  away  at  the 
soul." 

"  Will  he  be  tormented  for  long?  " 

"  If  you  do  not  wish  to  see  his  torments,  stand 
by  his  bed  when  nobody  else  is  by,  cross  yourself 
thrice,  and  repeat  the  words  which  his  dying  sister 


A   CHILDISH    MALEFACTOR.  55 

said  to  him :  ^  *  Don't  bury  me,  Neddy !  Little 
Emma  won't  cry !  '—and  then  he  will  die." 

"  How  his  father  will  weep !  It  is  his  favourite 
child — he  loved  him  better  than  the  little  girl." 

**  How  his  grandfather  will  weep !  For  he  loved 
them  both,  and  they  were  both  his  petSw" 


CHAPTER   IV. 

A      DIVINE     VISITATION. 

The  whole  region  was  pitch  black,  half  the  night 
was  over,  there  was  no  sign  of  life  anywhere. 

But  slumber  was  no  dweller  in  that  darkness,  the 
terrible  voice  of  God  drove  it  far  away  from  the 
eyes  of  men — Heaven  was  thundering  as  if  it  would 
have  smashed  this  nebulous  star  of  ours  here  below 
into  fragments.     Who  could  sleep  at  such  a  time? 

One  thunderbolt  followed  hard  upon  another. 
Whenever  the  crashing  uproar  ceased  for  an  instant 
one  could  hear  the  ringing  of  bells,  which  the  super- 
stitious peasantry  set  a-going  to  charm  away  the 
terrifying  tempest 

At  such  times  every  soul  of  man  prays  silently 
in  its  quiet  place  of  rest  Not  a  single  light  is  burn- 
ing in  any  of  the  windows,  the  awakened  sleeper  lies 
with  fast-closed  eyes  beneath  his  coverlet,  all  his 
sins  rise  up  before  him,  all  his  sins  and  their  punish- 
ment— death ! 

In  one  house,  and  one  house  only,  nobody  has 
gone  to  rest  Every  living  thing  there  is  wakeful, 
from  the  master  of  the  house  to  the  watch-dog.    It 


A  DIVINE  VISITATION.  57 

is  the  squire's  house.  All  its  windows  are  lit  tip 
and  all  its  doors  are  locked. 

In  the  room  looking  out  upon  the  garden,  the 
mother  is  alone  with  the  sick  child. 

The  child  is  delirous,  he  is  gabbling  terrible 
things,  his  features  wear  a  different  expression  every 
instant 

And  his  mother  understands  every  word  of  that 
mortal  fever-born  nightmare ;  she  guesses  at  every 
thought  which  underlies  all  those  varying  expres- 
sions of  countenance,  the  sight  of  whose  horrible 
contortions  are  enough  to  make  even  the  heart  of 
a  strong  man  break  down. 

How  she  must  suffer! 

He  who  takes  poison  dies  a  terrible  death,  his 
veins  burst  asunder  one  by  one,  his  nerves  and 
muscles  strain  and  crack,  his  very  marrow  seems 
to  be  on  fire.  But,  oh!  what  is  all  that  compared 
to  the  death  of  a  poisoned  soul!  A  remedy  may 
be  found  perhaps  for  bodily  venom,  but  there  is 
no  remedy  against  spiritual  venonL  The  grave  may 
close  upon  the  former,  but  never  upon  the  latter. 
Both  here  and  hereafter  recollection  and  reproba- 
tion wait  upon  it 

God  visits  the  sins  of  the  fathers  upon  the 
children  even  to  the  fourth  generation.  They  graft 
the  evil  qualities  of  their  blood  upon  their  sonsj 
one  generation  passes  on  its  wickedness  to  the 
next ;  man  is  vitiated  when  he  is  bom ;  he  sins  as 
soon  as  he  is  conscious  of  his  existence  and  he  dies 
accursed. 


58  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

The  sweat  streamed  from  the  child's  temples ;  for 
the  last  three  days  he  has  had  the  mark  of  death 
upon  him. 

The  doctors  say  he  may  live,  but  if  he  lives  he 
will  be  weak-witted. 

What  a  future  for  a  four-year-old  child!  A 
burden  to  the  world,  a  burden  to  himself,  to  live  on 
for  years  after  the  mind  is  dead!  To  be  an  idiot 
for  ever !  It  would  be  good  for  him  if  he  could  be 
made  away  with,  surely. 

Will  God  take  him?  Or  is  it  the  Divine  Will 
that  he  should  live  on  as  an  example  of  a  living 
curse,  as  a  witness  of  the  Almighty's  chastising 
arm? 

Does  he  bear  so  much  suffering  by  way  of 
ransom  for  the  sins  of  his  father,  his  mother,  and 
his  grandfather? — or  must  the  years  of  punishment 
be  as  many  as  the  years  of  sin? 

Who  will  be  merciful  enough  to  put  an  end  to  his 
sufferings? 

His  mother  sits  silent  and  watchful  at  the  head  of 
the  bed. 

No,  she  cannot  do  it! 

After  all  she  is  his  mother.  The  roots  of  that 
young  flower  are  still  but  half  detached  from  the 
soil  of  her  heart  Death  would  be  a  benefit  to  him. 
Perchance  it  might  be  easier  to  forget  him  if  he  were 
under  the  sod.  But  man  who  does  not  endow  with 
life,  must  not  distribute  death.  Man  must  wait  till 
the  last  of  his  allotted  days  has  come. 

And  yet  only  a  few  words  would  bring  it  to  pass. 


A   DIVINE   VISITATION.  59 

The  "  death-bird  "  has  whispered  the  magic  spell, 
and  Death  will  obey  the  summons. 

Yet  she  lacks  the  courage  to  summon  him  at  a 
time  when  the  very  foundations  of  the  earth  are 
trembling  at  the  voice  of  Heaven's  thunder ! 

Poor  woman ! 

It  is  a  marvel  that  she  also  is  not  mad  She 
cannot  even  weep  now  though  her  bosom  heaves 
tumultuously — it  were  not  good  for  a  man  to  know 
her  secret  thoughts  at  this  moment 

"They  are  calling  me,  they  are  calling  me/* 
stammers  the  child.  ..."  Men  without  heads 
.  .  .  they  are  running  after  me  .  .  •  the 
black  dog  is  scratching  up  the  ground  •  •  ,.  the 
hand  of  the  dead  body  is  sticking  out  •  ■  . 
Poor  Emma ! " 

The  poor  lady,  all  trembling,  rose  from  her  seat, 
very  softly  lest  she  should  make  a  noise,  she  gets 
up,  she  cannot  blow  out  the  night  lamp  on  the 
table,  her  breath  is  too  feeble  for  that,  she  puts  it 
out  by  casting  it  out  of  the  room. 

Then  she  approaches  the  window  in  the  darkness 
to  see  whether  the  curtains  are  closely  drawn,  or 
whether  anyone  can  look  into  the  room  from  the 
outside.  What  a  flashing  past  there  was  of  fiery 
eyes  amid  the  darkness  of  the  night — ^Hah !  What 
a  blinding  flash  that  was! — ^And  then  black  dark 
ness  again. — No,  nobody  could  see  her — ^nobody — . 

Can  she  make  up  her  mind? 

She  goes  slowly  oack  to  the  bed.  The  lad  is 
moaning  fearfully.     He  is  babbling  dreadful  words 


6o  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

and  his  throat  rattles  painfully.  "  How  blue  *  .  ■ 
her  mouth  .  .  .  how  bloody  ...  her  fore- 
head   ....    poor  little  Eimna." 

The  lady  bends  down  over  the  bed.  The  ghost 
of  a  pale  little  face  comes  into  sight  now  and  then 
as  the  lightning  flashes  quiver  past  the  windows 

Can  she  make  up  her  mind? 

**  Poor  little  Emma,"  wails  the  lad. 

This  last  pathetic  wail  was  too  much  for  her. 
The  unhappy  woman  crossed  herself  three  times 
and,  in  a  dry,  half -suffocated  voice  exclaimed: 
"  Don't  bury  me,  Neddy,  little  Emma  won't  cry !  " 

The  lad  uttered  a  cry  like  the  scream  of  a  wild 
bird  when  it  is  shot  through  the  heart — then  he 
drew  a  long  deep  sigh  and  was  quite  still. 

"  Oh  1 "  cried  the  desperate  mother,  as  if  suddenly 
throwing  off  the  oppressive  influence  of  some  magic 
trance,  "help,  help!"  and  like  a  mad  creature  she 
rushed  towards  the  bell-rope  which  hung  beside  the 
hearth. 

She  seized  the  golden  tassel,  the  bell  rang  out 
like  a  ghostly  chime,  when  suddenly  a  fearful  crash 
was  heard,  a  thunderbolt  came  down  the  chimney, 
zig-zagging  through  the  room  like  a  fiery  serpent, 
fusing  the  metal  of  the  bell  in  its  passage  and  flash- 
ing down  the  bell-rope  to  the  golden  tassel  with  a 
blinding  glare,  finally  vanishing  with  a  dull  crackling 
sound 

The  whole  family  rushed  at  once  to  the  scene  of 
this  fearful  crash. 

With  ghastly,  frightened  faces  they  came  rushing 


A  DIVINE  VISITATION.  6i 

in  one  by  one,  huddled  up  in  sheets  and  counter- 
panes or  whatever  else  came  first  to  hand,  like  so 
many  spectres  in  white  mourning. 

In  the  room  lay  two  corpses,  the  mother  and  the 
child 

Bitter  lamentations  resounded  through  the  house. 

The  father  and  the  grandfather  came  hurrying 
along. 

Howling  and  screaming  like  some  wild  beast 
never  seen  before,  the  father  flung  himself  upon 
his  dead,  turning  frantically  from  the  mother  to 
the  child,  and  from  the  child  to  the  mother,  kissing 
and  squeezing  them  constantly.  And  then  he 
pressed  them  to  his  bosom  and  literally  howled 
like  one  beyond  the  reach  of  the  mercy  of  God. 

But  the  grandfather  groped  his  way  along  in 
silence,  looking  in  his  white  nightdress  and  his 
dishevelled  silvery  locks  like  some  spectral  thing. 

He  could  not  speak.  His  palsied  tongue  could 
not  utter  a  single  cry  for  the  relief  of  his  agony. 
He  knelt  down  in  front  of  the  dead  bodies  and 
raised  his  eyes  aloft.  Oh!  how  he  strove  to  give 
expression  to  his  grief,  to  utter  one  word,  if  only 
one,  which  might  pierce  Heaven  itself.  But  he 
could  not  He  was  dumb,  his  mouth  moved  as  if 
it  would  speak,  but  his  tongue  was  tied. 

Oh!  how  much  this  family  must  have  sinned,  to 
suffer  so  much. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  UNBELOVED   SON. 

The  day  dawned  slowly  and,  as  it  seemed,  with 
great  difficulty.  The  morning  was  cold  and  cloudy 
as  is  often  the  case  after  a  tempestuous  night 

There  was  a  great  bustling  about  in  the  house 
of  mourning.  A  bier  and  a  coffin  had  to  be  made;, 
and  the  dead  clothed  in  their  funeral  finery.  The 
old  squire  wished  the  funeral  to  be  a  splendid  one. 

The  courtyard  had  been  swept  clean.  Every 
household  tool  and  implement  of  labour  had  been 
removed  out  of  the  way.  They  were  preparing  to 
keep  one  of  those  days  of  sad  and  solemn  observ- 
ance which  must  befall  every  household  at  some 
time  or  other. 

At  such  times  the  street  door  is  kept  wide  open. 
Let  the  country  folks  come  in  and  look  upon  the 
dead,  let  them  learn  from  the  sight  that  Death  is 
the  judge  of  the  gentry  as  well  as  of  the  serfs ;  let 
them  see  how  the  rich  can  be  splendid  even  after 
death,  how  they  embellish  their  coffins,  how  they 
fasten  them  with  golden  nails,  how  they  embroider 
their  palls  with  patterns  of  roses  and  gold  filagree, 
how  they  spread  the  bed  of  death  itself  with  tlie 


THE   UNBELOVED  SON.  63 

finest  white  watered  silk  and  perfume  it  with  the 
most  fragrant  balm. 

Yet  that  fragrant  balm  cannot  stifle  the  smell  of 
the  chamel  house.  Here,  too,  men  must  hold  their 
handkerchiefs  to  their  mouths  as  they  do  before 
the  corpses  of  the  poor. 

For  Death  is  a  just  judge. 

A  ragged  man  passes  through  the  door.  He  is 
soalced  through  and  through  with  mud  and  dirt,  it 
was  clear  that  no  roof  had  covered  his  head  during 
last  night's  tempest  His  feet  peeped  from  out  of 
his  boots,  his  damp  hair  seemed  glued  to  his 
temples,  his  eyes  were  sunken,  his  cheeks .  were 
mere  bone,  his  lips  were  blue  and  hollow. 

He  entered  the  courtyard  falteringly  like  one  who 
would  steal  something  but  does  not  know  how  to  set 
about  it,  and  there  he  stood  at  the  entrance  of  the 
hall,  leaning  against  the  lintel,  with  eyes  cast  down 
upon  the  ground. 

The  dogs  approached  him,  sniffed  at  his  clothes 
all  round,  and  began  to  growl  at  him. 

Only  one  dog,  an  old  boar-hound,  would  not  be 
satisfied  with  sniffing  impatiently  among  the  others, 
but  rushed  upon  the  stranger,  placed  its  two  front 
paws  upon  him,  licked  his  limp  hand,  and  began 
joyously  barking  at  him. 

At  this  the  major-domo,  a  sunburnt  old  man  with 
a  white  moustache  drew  near,  gave  the  speechless 
stranger  a  large  piece  of  bread,  and  bade  him  go 
about  his  business. 

"  In  God's  name  take  yourself  off,"  said  he,  "  don't 


64  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

stand  here  in  the  way  of  everybody  that  comes  out 
or  goes  in." 

The  new-comer  did  not  move,  but  kept  on  look- 
ing straight  in  front  of  him,  his  chin  and  his  hps 
trembled  as  if  he  were  keeping  back  by  force  a 
torrent  of  tears. 

The  major-domo  did  not  notice  this,  but  the  old 
dog  kept  leaping  up  at  the  stranger's  hand,  and 
yelped  and  yapped  so  persistently  that  it  was  plain 
he  wanted  to  say  something. 

"  Come,  stir  your  stumps  and  look  sharp  about  it, 
my  good  fellow,  and  don't  set  all  our  dogs  barking 
for  nothing,"  said  the  major-domo,  and  with  that 
he  seized  the  vagabond's  hand  and  turned  him 
round. 

And  now  he  saw  his  face  for  the  first  time. 

The  tears  streamed  from  the  eyes  of  the  ragged 
man,  sobbing  and  weeping  he  turned  to  the  waH  and 
hid  his  face. 

The  old  servant  stood  there  dumbfounded.  At 
first  he  would  not  believe  his  eyes,  then  at  last  he 
clapped  his  hands  together  and  exclaimed :  "  Why, 
if  it  is  not  young  Master  Imre  himself.  Good 
Heaven ! "  and  deeply  agitated  he  approached  the 
young  man  and  began  to  soothe  him,  finally  falling 
upon  his  neck  and  weeping  along  with  him. 

"Nobody  recognises  me,"  sobbed  the  youth, 
whose  left  hand  was  bleeding  badly.  He  had  hurt 
himself  somewhat  severely  when  he  leaped  over  the 
fence  of  the  headsman's  house. 

"Oh,  why  have  you  come  home  just  at  this 


THE  UNBELOVED  SON.  6$ 

time?"  lamented  the  old  servant,  "if  only  it  had 
been  any  other  day  in  the  whole  year  but  this;! 
this  house  is  a  sad  dwelling-place  just  now,  there 
are  two  corpses  in  it" 

"Who  has  died  then?** 

"Mistress  Leonora  and  little  Ned  How  they 
are  all  weeping  within  there." 

"  I  shall  be  the  third." 

The  servant  was  silent  Perhaps  he  thought  to 
himself :  "  Nobody  will  weep  for  yoa" 

"  I  have  deserted  from  my  regiment  a  third  tima*^ 

"Oh  dear,  oh  dear!  And  why  have  you  come 
home  again  ?  " 

"  I  wanted  to  speak  to  my  father  once  f or  alL" 

"From  henceforth  yoiu:  father  will  speak  to 
nobody  but  the  Lord  God." 

"  I  don't  ask  him  to  be  kind  to  me.  I  want  to 
tell  him  that  Death  is  very  near  him,  and  he  must 
try  to  avoid  it" 

"  Methinks  the  poor  old  man  would  rather  seek 
out  death  than  fly  from  it;  but  you  may  be  seen 
and  recognised  here,  young  master,  and  taken 
away — and  then    .     .     ." 

"They  will  hang  me  up,  ch?  Don't  be  afraid. 
The  pistol  with  which  I  shot  the  captain  is  loaded, 
one  shot  will  be  sufficient  to  save  me  from  the 
gallows-tree — show  me  where  my  father  is." 

"  Go,  then !  Where  the  mourning  is  loudest 
there  will  you  find  him." 

The  youth  went  in  the  direction  indicated  and 
entered  the  room. 

■ 


66  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

The  room  was  wholly  darkened,  the  mirrors  and 
pictures  were  draped  in  black;  in  the  midst  of  it 
stood  two  coffins,  within  which  lay  two  pallid  shapei 
like  wax  figures. 

It  was  impossible  to  recognise  them. 

On  a  candelabra  beside  the  coffins  burnt  four 
large  wax  candles,  and  a  gilded  crucifix  had  been 
placed  on  a  little  table  right  opposite. 

Kneeling  at  the  foot  of  the  dead  was  a  white- 
haired  man.  He  glanced  now  at  the  one  now  at 
the  other  of  the  departed,  and  from  time  to  time 
would  press  his  clenched  hands  to  his  Hps  and 
moan  softly  like  one  in  a  troubled  sleep. 

It  was  a  heart-breaking  sight — this  old  white- 
haired  man  crushed  beneath  the  hand  of  God,  moan- 
ing like  some  wild  beast  dedicated  to  death,  but 
tmable  to  utter  a  word  or  shed  a  tear. 

When  God  visits  His  people  with  affliction  He 
also  gives  them  tears  that  they  may  weep  out  their 
sorrow,  and  power  of  speech  that  they  may  talk  of 
their  griefs  and  so  find  relief,  but  even  these  things 
were  denied  to  this  old  man.  There  he  knelt; 
scourged  by  the  wrath  of  God,  humbled  to  the  very 
earth,  like  a  withered  branch  which  stiffens  into 
dry  lif elessness  without  complaint 

The  young  man,  groping  his  way  along,  with  his 
soul  benumbed  with  sorrow,  approached  the  old 
man,  and  gently,  noiselessly  knelt  down  by  his  side. 

The  old  man  r^arded  him  stupidly,  and  for  some 
time  seemed  to  be  wandering  who  it  was.  He  could 
not  speak,  for,  though  still  aiive^  Death  had  abready 


THE  UNBELOVED  SON.  67 

mastered  his  tongue,  and  his  son  fancied  he  did  not 
recognise  him.  Perchance  it  was  impossible  to 
recognise  that  haggard  distorted  face,  that  ragged 
garb,  those  dishevelled  locks. 

"  I  am  your  son  whom  you  drove  away,  and  who 
will  soon  be  your  dead  son  too,"  he  exclaimed,  with 
deep  emotion,  trying  to  seize  the  old  man's  hand 
that  he  might  kiss  it 

But  the  old  man  drew  back  his  hand  with  horror. 
One  could  see  loathing  in  the  expression  of  his  face, 
just  as  if  the  Devil  had  extended  his  hcind  to  him  in 
the  moment  of  his  most  sacred  sorrow. 

"  I  deserve  your  disgust,  your  repudiation.  I 
sinned  grievously  against  you.  You  have  grown 
grey  betimes  because  of  me.  But  all  this  shall  be 
atoned  for  by  a  death,  my  death.  You  never  loved 
me,  you  drove  me  away  from  your  house  as  you 
would  never  have  driven  a  dog,  you  let  me  perish 
in  want  and  wretchedness ;  from  my  childish  years 
upwards  I  have  never  had  a  good  word  from  you, 
had  it  been  otherwise  things  might  have  been  very 
different  Those  whom  you  loved  God  took  away 
from  you,  those  you  did  not  love  you  drove  away 
yourself,  and  now  you  are  alone  in  the  world." 

The  old  man  signified  to  him  in  dumb  show  that 
he  was  to  say  no  more. 

"  I  have  not  come  hither  to  ask  anything  of  you, 
so  short  will  be  the  remaining  period  of  my  life  that 
I  shall  want  no  provision  for  the  way.  I  only  want 
to  reveal  to  you  a  horrible  diabolical  plot  which 
threatens  your  grey  head,  your  family,  and  perhaps 


tt  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH- 

your  very  house.  My  father,  in  ten  minutes*  time 
I  shall  have  ceased  to  live,  and  no  more  words  of 
mine  will  ever  trouble  your  soul  again,  do  not 
repulse  me  in  the  very  hour  of  my  death !  " 

The  old  man  slowly  rose  from  his  knees,  surveyed 

his   tatterdemaUon   son   from   head   to   foot   with 

infinite  contempt,  and  his  lips  moved  and  quivered 

as  if  they  would  have  said  something,  but  not  a 

/   word  fell  from  them. 

The  son  did  not  know  that  his  father  had  had  a 
stroke  and  could  not  speak. 

"  Have  you  not  one  word  for  me  ? — ^bad  or  good, 
a  curse  or  a  blessing?  Only  a  single  word,  father! 
before  you  see  me  die ! "  and  he  dragged  himself 
on  his  knees  to  the  feet  of  the  old  man,  who 
supported  himself  tremulously  against  the  altar  that 
had  been  placed  opposite  the  two  coffins,  his  hair 
seemed  to  rise,  his  eyes  started  from  his  head 
Then  he  seized  the  heavy  gilded  crucifix  and  slowly 
raised  it  aloft  in  his  right  hand  as  if  he  would  have 
stricken  to  the  earth  with  it  his  own  son  who  knelt 
there  embracing  his  knees. 

During  this  painful  scene  the  door  opened,  the 
clash  of  the  butt  ends  of  muskets  brought  sharply 
to  the  ground  was  heard,  and  a  corporal  and  three 
soldiers  appeared  on  the  scene. 

Imre  looked  round  at  this  noise.  For  an  instant 
his  face  turned  deadly  pale ;  behind  the  backs  of  the 
soldiers  he  perceived  the  grinning  face  of  his  evil 
angel,  the  headsman's  'prentice.  He  felt  that  he 
was  lost 


THE  UNBELOVED  SON.  69 

He  glanced  around  him.  Whither  should  he  flee 
for  refuge?  Close  beside  him  were  two  corpses 
with  cold  imsympathetic  faces — and  there  was  also 
a  third,  a  living  face,  still  colder,  still  more  unsympa- 
thetic than  the  faces  of  tlie  dead,  living  and  yet  not 
loving,  the  face  of  his  own  father  who  still  stood 
there  with  the  large  heavy  crucifix  in  his  uplifted 
fist 

The  corporal  approached  the  youth  and  seized 
him  by  the  collaj:.  What  did  it  matter  to  him  that 
the  culprit  was  standing  beside  two  corpses  covered 
with  a  fimeral  pall?  what  did  he  care  about  the 
painfulness  of  the  scene?  Naturally  he  only  saw 
before  him  a  deserter,  a  deserter  whom  it  was  his 
duty  to  arrest 

At  this  the  youth  grew  absolutely  desperate,  and 
at  the  same  time  the  instinct  of  self-preservation 
arose  within  him.  In  one  magical  moment  there 
ficished  through  his  mind  all  the  horrors  which  the 
future  had  in  store  for  him — the  cold  dimgeon  wall, 
the  narrow  barred  windows,  the  heavy  rattling 
chain,  the  court-martial,  the  reading  of  the  sentence, 
the  pillory,  the  gaping  crowd,  the  white  shirt  worn 
by  the  condemned,  the  man  of  death,  the  execu- 
tioner, with  a  Prayer  Book  in  one  hand  and  a  cord 
in  the  other,  the  ignominious  death,  the  black 
carrion  crows 

"  Ah ! "  he  roared  in  despair,  and  with  the  iron 
strength  of  frenzy  he  tore  himself  loose  from  the 
grcLsp  of  the  corporal  who  fell  prone  into  the  fire- 
place with  a  feajful  crash. 


7©  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

"  Whoever  touches  me  is  a  dead  man !  "  screamed 
Imr6,  with  a  voice  full  of  fury  and  defiance,  and 
tearing  open  his  vest  he  drew  forth  with  one  hand 
a  dagger  and  with  the  other  a  large  hussar  pistol. 
The  broken-winged  young  eagle  had  turned  upon 
its  pursuers,  hacking  at  them  with  its  wounded  beak 
and  flapping  its  still  uninjured  pinion  in  their  facesu 

The  soldiers  began  to  fall  back  before  the  infuri- 
ated youth,  who,  with  bloodshot  eyes  and  foaming 
mouth,  followed  hard  upon  them,  and  either  from 
fear  or  compassion  opened  a  way  before  him. 

Then  the  white-headed  old  man  seized  from 
behind  the  youth's  murderous  uplifted  arms,  and 
held  him  back. 

When  the  young  man  felt  the  touch  of  those  cold 
tremulous  hands  upon  his  arm,  he  let  fall  the 
weapons  from  both  his  own  hands,  his  arms  fell 
down  benumbed  by  his  side,  his  whole  body 
collapsed ;  nerveless  and  swooning  he  sank  in  a  heap 
upon  the  ground.  The  soldiers  lifted  him  upon 
their  shoulders,  removed  him  from  the  room,  put 
fetters  upon  his  hands  and  feet,  and  carried  him 
off. 

The  old  man  looked  coldly  after  them  When 
they  had  gone,  he  a^in  knelt  down  close  to  the  two 
coffins,  his  white  locks  falling  about  his  face,  raised 
iiis  clasped  hands  to  his  tremulous  but  impotent 
lips,  and  kept  gazing,  gazing  fixedly  first  at  one  of 
his  dear  departed  and  then  at  the  other. 

Not  a  tear,  not  a  single  tear  fell  from  his  eye§^ 


CHAPTER  VL 

TWO  FAMOUS  PiEDAGOGUES, 

The  first  of  these  famous  paedagogues  wai  the 
cantor,  worthy  Mr.  Michael  Korde. 

The  second  was  the  rector,  Thomas  Bodza. 

Apart  from  the  fact  that  he  had  an  extraordinary 
liking  for  wine  and  never  couJd  quite  distingui^ 
the  forenoon  from  the  afternoon,  Mr.  Michael  Kord6 
was  a  man  of  refinement  to  the  very  tips  of  his  toea 

In  his  time  he  had  worn  out  a  great  many  stout 
hazel  switches,  it  being  the  custom  of  his  establish- 
ment to  make  each  pupil  provide  his  own  rod  This 
was  no  doubt  an  extra  item  in  the  curriculum^  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  there  was  something  to  show  for 
it;  all  those  who  passed  through  his  hands  when 
they  subsequently  fell  into  the  clutches  of  the  Law 
could  endure  as  many  as  five-and-twenty  strokes 
from  the  hardest  bludgeon  without  so  much  as 
wincing.  They  had  been  case  hardened  by  their 
previous  education^ 

The  schoolhouse  was  the  vis-^-vis  of  Mr.  Kord6's 
own  private  dwelling.    It  had   never   once  been 


7a  THE   DAY    OF   WRATH. 

whitewashed  since  it  was  first  built;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  was  richly  adorned  outside  with  the 
Christian  names  and  the  nicknames  of  all  the 
urchins  who  had  ever  been  inside  its  walls,  names 
to  which  later  generations  of  scholars  had  taken 
good  care  to  add  such  distinguishing  epithets  as 
ass,  swine,  &c.,  &c.  Those,  moreover,  who  possessed 
a  taste  for  art  did  not  omit  to  paint  on  the  wall,  with 
red  chalk,  hussars,  two-legged  heads  with  six  noses 
and  one  eye,  large  meerschaum  pipes,  &c.,  &c. 
Here  and  there,  too,  the  remains  of  big  black  ink 
blots  and  red  splodges,  like  hideous  bunches  of 
cherries,  pointed  to  past  combats  in  which  inkpots 
had  been  hurled  and  fists  used  freely;  these  pic- 
torial devices,  however,  were  but  fragmentary,  as  the 
various  generations  of  students  had  from  time  to 
time  dug  large  bits  of  mortar  out  of  the  walls  with 
their  nails  to  serve  as  sand  for  blotting  their  themes. 

Inside  the  schoolroom  the  shapeless  battered 
benches  were  also  carved  all  over  with  names  and 
emblems.  The  window  panes  had  for  the  most  part 
been  broken  to  bits,  and  the  gaps  stuffed  with 
closely  written  MS.  torn  out  of  old  exercise  books. 
Layers  of  dust  met  the  eye  everywhere,  and  there 
was  a  perfect  network  of  dangling  spiders'  webs  in 
all  the  comers. 

Such,  in  all  its  beauty,  was  the  academical 
emporiiun  where  Mr.  Michael  Korde  for  thirty  years 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  regularly  dispensing  science 
and  slaps — with  what  result  we  shall  see  later  on. 

Worthy  Mr.  Kord6  used  r^^larly  to  return  to 


TWO   FAMOUS   PiEDAGOGUES,  73 

his  own  honourable  dwelling  from  the  pot-house  just 
when  the  night-watchmen  were  going  home  to  sleep 
and  the  cocks  were  crowing  in  the  mom,  and  at  such 
times  he  would  bellow  forth  ditties  the  whole  way 
at  the  top  of  his  voice  to  the  accompaniment  of 
the  howling  of  all  the  watch-dogs  in  the  village. 

The  object  of  this  singing  bout  was  to  warn  the 
honest  tutor's  better  half  that  her  lord  was  approach- 
ing, and  give  her  time  to  open  the  street  door  for 
him. 

On  safely  reaching  home  he  would  first  of  all 
knock  his  wife  about  a  bit  and  break  to  pieces  any 
odd  articles  which  might  stray  into  his  hands, 
whereupon,  after  a  little  miscellaneous  cursing  and 
swearing,  he  would  fling  himself  down  upon  the 
floor,  light  his  pipe,  fall  asleep  and  snore  like  a  wild 
hog. 

Heaven  only  knows  how  it  was  that  he  did  not 
bum  his  house  ov^r  his  head  every  day. 

The  following  morning  when  the  children 
assembled  in  the  schoolhouse  and  began  to  kick  up 
a  most  fecirful  din,  the  noble  paedagogue  would 
scramble  to  his  feet,  shake  the  straw  out  of  his  hair, 
smooth  out  his  moustache,  and  gaze  with  a  canniba- 
listic expression  out  of  the  attic  window,  not  recog- 
nising for  a  moment  exactly  where  he  was. 

After  convincing  himself  by  ocular  demonstration 
that  the  schoolhouse  had  not  taken  wings  unto  itself 
and  flown,  but  was  still  in  the  old  place,  he  would 
shamble  downstairs,  stick  a  couple  of  canes  under 
his  arm,  and  go  forth  to  teach. 


74  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

His  pupils  meanwhile  were  engaged  in  frightful 
hand-to-hand  combats '  with  one  another.  There 
were  scratched  faces  and  bloody  noses  everywhere, 
and  when  the  master  entered  he  regularly  found  all 
the  benches  upset  and  everybody's  hands  tugging 
at  his  neighbour's  hair. 

The  moment  the  facial  portion  of  Mr.  Michael 
Korde  stumbled  against  the  door,  the  little  rebels 
instantly  disentangled  themselves  from  one  another 
and  attempted  to  reach  their  proper  places>  whence 
the  grand  inquisitor  hooked  them  out  one  by  one, 
and  thwacked  the  whole  class  in  turn  with  his  own 
honourable  hand 

This  little  commotion  used  generally  to  chase 
slxmiber  somewhat  from  his  eyes,  and  when  the  lads 
had  left  off  howling  a  bit,  he  would  measure  out 
to  each  of  them  a  big  slice  of  catechism,  or  a  similar 
amount  of  Hubner's  "  Short  questions  in  geogra- 
I^y,*'  to  be  repeated  aloud  till  learnt  by  heart, 
whilst  he  himself  adjourned  to  the  pot-house.  From 
this  place  of  refuge  he  would  send  a  message  to 
the  urchins  later  in  the  afternoon  that  they  might 
go  home. 

Thereupon  there  was  a  general  rush  for  the  door 
(just  as  when  a  herd  of  swine  reaches  home,  and 
every  one  tried  to  get  through  first)  to  an  accom- 
paniment of  kicks,  cuffs,  and  the  tugging  and  teziring 
of  clothes. 

On  Simdays  the  lads  did  their  best  to  ferret  out 
where  the  Lutheran  children  were  playing  balL 
Then  they  all  consulted  together,  and  set  off  £o€ 


TWO   FAMOUS   PiEDAGOGUES.  75 

the  same  place  with  stout  sticks  in  their  hands  and 
their  pockets  crammed  full  of  stones^  and  a  battle 
royal  forthwith  would  ensue  between  the  youths  of 
the  rival  creeds.  When,  then,  Monday  morning  came 
round  again  Mr.  Korde  conscientiously  administered 
a  dose  of  birch,  previously  soaked  in  salt  water,  to 
each  one  of  his  pupils  who  appeeured  in  class  with  a 
swollen  face  or  a  damaged  noddle. 

On  Sunday,  moreover,  he  twice  took  them  with 
him  to  church  where,  during  the  sermon,  they 
either  caught  blue-bottles  under  the  seats,  or  played 
at  knucklebones,  or  (but  this  was  only  when  they 
were  particularly  well  behaved)  lay  down  on  the 
floor  of  the  pews  and  slept  like  Christians. 

And  when  they  grew  up  and  became  full-blown 
louts,  their  actions  still  testified  to  the  influence  of 
the  school  in  which  they  had  been  reared.  Who- 
ever was  the  most  skilful  farmyard  pilferer  in  the 
village,  whoever  was  the  most  thorough-paced  loafer 
in  the  county,  could  infallibly  be  regarded  as  an 
ex-pupil  of  Mr.  Korde's. 

Whoever  was  regularly  chucked  out  of  the  p'^t- 
house  every  Sunday  evening,  whoever  brought  a 
broken  pate  home  with  him  the  oftenest,  whoever 
spent  most  of  his  time  in  the  village  jail,  would  be 
he,  you  might  be  quite  sure  of  it,  who  had  picked 
up  the  rudiments  of  learning  at  the  feet  of  Mr. 
Korde. 

Whoever  lied  and  perjured  himself  most  fre- 
quently, whoever  could  swallow  most  brandy  at  a 
gulp,  whoever  knocked  his  wife  about  the  oftenest^ 


76  THE   DAY    OF   WRATH. 

whoever  turned  his  father  and  mother  out  of  doors^ 
whoever  was  most  slothful  in  business^  whoever  had 
the  filthiest  house,  whoever  was  cruel  to  his  horse, 
whoever  sat  in  the  stocks  habitually,  would  be  he, 
you  might  safely  rely  upon  it,  who  had  learnt  the 
philosophy  of  life  in  the  school  of  Mr.  Kordd. 

Thus  for  thirty  years  had  he  spread  the  blessings 
of  science  in  Hetfalu  and  its  environs. 

The  second  instructor  of  the  people  was  Thomas 
Bodza,  a  panslavist  incarnate. 

He  had  but  little  mind  yet  much  leamii^.  He 
was  one  of  those  men  who  remembered  all  he  read 
without  understanding  it,  a  semi-savant  and  one  of 
the  most  dangerous  specimens  of  that  dangerous 
class.  Of  him,  I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak 
presently. 


One  day  Mr.  Korde  had  drunk  himself  into  an 
tmusual  state  of  fuddle. 

When  I  say  unusual^  I  mean,  that  as  early  as 
midnight  he  did  not  know  whether  he  Wcis  boy  or 
girl,  and  took  the  starry  firmament  for  a  bass-vioL 

He  had  made  a  Httle  excursion  with  his  friend 
the  magistrate,  Mr.  Martin  Csicseri,  to  a  little  tavern 
in  the  outlying  vineyards  to  taste  the  new  vintages^ 
and  there  the  two  gentlemen  got  so  drunk  that  they 
would  have  found  it  difficult  to  explain  in  what 
Iwiguage  they  were  conversing. 

Finally  they  set  d&  homewards^  leaning  heavily 


TWO  FAMOUS   PiEDAGOGUES.      .      77 

for  support  on  each  other's  shoulders.  His  honour, 
Mr.  Csicseri  suddenly  caught  sight  of  a  broad  ditch 
by  the  roadside.  He  swore  by  heaven  cind  earth 
that  it  was  a  nicely  quilted  bed,  and  there  and  then 
laid  himself  down  in  it  and  fell  asleep. 

For  some  time  Mr.  Korde  kept  on  pulling  and 
tugging  at  him  to  get  him  out,  first  by  an  arm  and 
then  by  a  leg.  However,  so  far  from  giving  his 
friend  any  encouragement,  Mr.  Csicseri  only  rebuked 
his  wife  for  putting  such  a  low  pillow  beneath  his 
head,  and  then,  without  pursuing  the  subject  further, 
went  off  as  sound  asleep  as  a  humming  top. 

So  the  cantor  found  himself  all  alone  in  a  strange 
world. 

In  front  of  him  lay  the  high  road,  and  the  village 
was  only  three  hundred  yards  further  on ;  but  wine 
is  a  bad  compass  in  a  man's  noddle,  and  never  points 
north  in  the  same  direction  two  minutes  together. 

He  resolved,  therefore,  to  return  to  the  inn  among 
the  vineyards.  Acting  straightway  upon  this  noble 
resolve,  he  stumbled  along  totally  unknown  paths 
up  hill  and  down  dale ;  plunged  through  field  after 
field  of  Indian  corn ;  pursued  his  endless  way 
through  hemp  grounds  and  fallow  lands ;  scrambled 
on  all  fours  through  hedges  and  ditches,  and  finally 
forced  his  way  through  a  vast  morass  in  which  he 
wallowed  freely.  In  a  sober  condition  he  would 
have  come  to  grief  twenty  times  over,  but  Fate 
always  protects  the  toper. 

Then  he  strayed  into  a  vast  forest;  zig-zagged 
through  fens  and  coppices  like  an  old  dog-wolf ; 


78     .  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

tore  himself  almost  to  ribbons  among  the  sloe  and 
blackberry  bushes,  and  emerged  at  last  at  a  ram- 
shackle forest-keeper's  hut,  the  door  of  which  stood 
wide  open. 

By  this  time  he  bore  not  the  slightest  resemblance 
to  man  or  beast 

In  the  courtyard  a  big,  shaggy,  lazy  mastiff  was 
shambling  about,  who,  on  perceiving  a  strange  uo- 
known  four-legged  animal  (Mr.  Korde  had  ceased 
for  a  time  to  belong  to  the  category:  man)  thus 
approaching  him,  sidled  up  to  him  with  incom- 
parable phlegm,  and  began  snifhng  at  him  all 
round. 

Mr.  Kord6  forthwith  collared  the  neck  of  the 
huge  dog  and  b^^  kissing  him  all  over.  "Dear 
friend,  faithful  old  comrade,"  he  cried,  "  what  a  long 
time  it  is  since  last  we  met!  What!  don't  you 
recognise  your  old  schoolfellow  ?  " — ^whereupon  the 
big  dog  in  his  extreme  bewilderment  sat  down 
beside  the  ex-cantor  on  his  haimches  and  was  so 
astonished  that  he  forgot  to  bark. 

At  this  Mr.  Korde  was  completely  overcome. 
Once  more  he  warmly  pressed  the  head  of  his  so 
imexpectedly  recovered  friend  to  his  bosom,  and 
then  shambled  along  with  him  into  the  courtyard. 
He  pathetically  complained  to  him  on  the  way  that 
he  had  been  chucked  out  of  his  employment  and 
was  now  a  fugitive  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  where- 
upon he  fell  to  weeping  bitterly  and  dried  his  tears 
with  the  mastiffs  bushy  tail 

The  poor  dog  was  so  utterly  taken  aback  that  if 


TWO   FAMOUS   Pj^DAGOGUES.  79 

could  not  recover  from  its  astonishment  Once  or 
twice  it  showed  its  white  teeth  and  growled  at  the 
stranger,  but  it  did  not  venture  to  hurt  him.  No 
doubt  it  thought  that  this  strange  animal  might 
perhaps  be  able  to  bite  better  than  itself. 

Thus  the  two  quadrupeds  strolled  comfortably 
together  right  into  the  courtyard.  The  dog  stopped 
before  his  three-cornered  kennel  which  Mr.  Kord6 
interpreted  cis  an  invitation  on  the  part  of  his 
respectful  host  for  him  to  go  in  first,  and,  accepting 
the  offer  in  the  spirit  of  true  courtesy,  and  with  the 
deepest  emotion,  he  squeezed  himself  into  the 
narrow  dog-kennel,  while  the  dispossessed  bow-wow 
squatted  down  at  the  entrance  of  his  house  with  the 
utmost  astonishment,  imable  satisfactorily  to  explain 
to  himself  by  what  right  this  strange  wild  beast 
usurped  his  ajicestral  holding. 

Mr.  Korde,  however,  soon  began  to  snore  inside 
there  so  terrifically  that  the  scared  dog  ran  out  into 
the  middle  of  the  courtyard  and  fell  a-barking  with 
all  his  might  and  main,  as  if  he  had  been  offered 
pitch  for  supper  instead  of  meat 

As  to  what  followed,  it  is  extremely  doubtful 
whether  Mr.  Korde  saw  it  all  with  his  own  eyes,  or 
whether  it  was  the  dream  of  a  drunken  brain  im- 
pressed so  vividly  on  his  memory  by  his  imagina- 
tion that  subsequently  he  fancied  it  to  be  true. 


The  moon  had  gone  down  and  there  was  a  great 


8o  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

commotion  in  the  courtyard  surrounding  the 
forester^s  hut 

A  lamp  had  been  lit  in  the  shelter  of  a  shed,  and 
a  group  of  men  was  standing  round  it — ^pale,  sinister 
figures,  putting  their  heads  closely  together  and 
listening  attentively  to  a  lean,  Ictnky  man  in  a 
cassock,  who  was  reading  a  letter  to  them. 

The  reader  was  short-sighted,  and  as  he  spelt  out 
the  letter  he  put  his  face  so  near  it  as  to  quite  cover 
his  features. 

"  What?  the  deuce  is  all  this  about?  "  thought  Mr. 
Korde  to  himself  as  he  peeped  through  the  crevices 
of  the  dog*s  dwelling-place,  "  what  is  my  colleague, 
the  myoptic  schoolmaster  doing  here,  and  why  is 
he  burying  bis  nose  in  that  bit  of  paper?  " 

"  I  hasten  to  inform  you,"  so  read  the  man  in  the 
cassock,  "  that  the  hostile  armies  are  already  on  the 
confines  of  the  kingdom.  What  the  object  of  the 
enemy  is  you  know  right  wclL  He  is  coming  to 
ravage  the  realm,  wipe  out  the  landed  gentry,  and 
divide  th6ir  estates  among  the  peasantry.  What 
then  shall  we  do?  Our  peasants  are  wrath  with  us 
for  we  have  treated  them  very  badly,  and  you,  sir, 
in  particular,  have  no  cause  to  trust  thenn  When 
you  had  your  house  built,  as  you  well  remember, 
you  made  your  serfs  work  three  weeks  running  for 
nothing.  When  you  were  a  young  man  you  ruined 
the  domestic  happiness  of  many  a  married  peasant ; 
you  appropriated  the  commxmal  lands  to  your  own 
uses ;  you  never  bestowed  a  thought  upon  the  parish 


TWO  FAMOUS    PEDAGOGUES.  8i 

church ;  once  you  gave  the  priest  a  good  cudgelling  ;\ 
you  kept  a  poor  fellow  in  jail  for  four  or  five  years 
and  beat  and  shamefully  treated  him.  When  a 
poor  man  wanted  to  build  him  a  house,  you  never 
gave  him  clay  to  make  bricks  with,  nor  rushes  for 
the  thatching  of  his  roof.  When  lots  of  planks 
were  rotting  away  in  a  corner  of  your  courtyard, 
and  two  poor  young  fellows  stole  just  enough  of 
them  to  make  a  coffin  for  their  father,  you  tied  the 
pair  of  them  up  tight  in  the  burning  sun  and  beat 
their  naked  bodies  with  thorny  sticks ;  one  of  them 
died  a  week  afterwards  of  sun-stroke.  On  one 
occasion  you  injured  the  thigh  of  a  neat-herd  on 
your  estate  and  he  is  a  cripple  to  this  day.  When 
your  sheep  died  of  the  murrain  you  hung  up  their 
hides  to  dry — ^in  the  schoolhouse.  If  all  these 
things  should  now  recur  to  the  minds  of  your 
tenants,  you  will  have;,  I  fancy,  rather  a  bad  time  of 
it  But  the  rest  of  us  are  in  the  same  boat  We 
never  gave  a  thought  to  the  education  of  our  people. 
They  grew  up,  they  grew  old,  and  all  they  have 
ever  learnt  to  know  of  life  is  its  wretchedness ;  not 
one  of  them  therefore  has  any  reason  to  love  us 
now.  What  can  we  do  if  it  comes  to  an  open 
collision  with  them?  Five  hundred  thousand  gentry 
against  twenty  times  as  many  peasants!  Why  not 
one  of  our  heads  would  remain  for  long  in  the 
place  where  God  placed  it  We  must  defend  our- 
selves with  the  weapons  of  desperation.  It  is  too 
late  now  to  try  and  entice  the  common  folk  over 
to  our  tide^  as  some  of  our  set  want  to  do  who  are 

F 


H  THE   DAY    OF   WRATH. 

now  distributing  no  end  of  wine  and  com  among 
their  underlings,  building  sick-houses  for  them,  and 
putting  the  priests  up  to  preaching  sobriety  to  them, 
and  the  fear  of  God  and  due  respect  for  the  squire 
and  his  family.  It  is  too  late  now  for  all  that  I  say. 
We  should  only  raise  suspicions.  We  must  sum- 
mon Death  to  our  assistance.  In  order  to  keep  the 
people  down  by  terror,  therefore,  we  have  resolved, 
in  a  secret  conference,  to  establish  cordons  in  the 
various  counties  and  send  patrols  of  soldiers  in  every 
direction  to  search  and  examine  everybody  passing 
to  and  fro.  In  this  way  we  shall  prevent  the  people 
from  going  from  one  village  to  another  in  large 
bodies,  in  fact  we  must  keep  them  down  in  every 
possible  way.  I,  therefore,  send  you  by  the  bearer  of 
this  letter,  on  whom  I  can  thoroughly  rely,  a  box  of 
powder  which  you  are  to  scatter  about  in  the  bams, 
the  fields,  the  pastures  where  the  cattle  feed,  and 
especially  in  the  wells  from  which  the  herdsmen 
draw  water.  The  county  authorities  will  take  care 
that  where  this  simple  method  does  not  do  its  work, 
the  parish  doctor  shall  compel  the  peasants  to  take 
this  powder  by  force.  At  the  same  time  we  mean 
to  make  a  great  fuss,  and  spread  the  rumour  that  the 
plague  is  spreading  from  the  neighbouring  states, 
and  will  be  mortal  to  many.  You,  meanwhile,  will 
enclose  a  large  plot  of  land  on  your  estates,  and 
make  a  churchyard  of  it  You  may  safely  make 
the  peasants  a  present  thereof,  as  it  will  be  mostly 
filled  by  them.  Take  out,  by  the  way,  the  tongues 
of  all  the  church-bells,  that  the  number  of  the  dead 


TWO   FAMOUS   PiEDAGOGUES.  83 

may  not  cause  any  commotion.  You  might  also 
have  prayers  said  in  the  church  to  avert  the 
calamity,  and  at  the  same  time  scatter  the  powder 
broadcast  A  separate  cemetery  must  be  dug  lest 
the  plague  spread  among  the  gentry.  In  this  way 
we  shall  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone :  in  the  first 
place  the  peasantry  will  be  sensibly  diminished,  and, 
taking  the  whole  thing  as  a  Divine  visitation,  will 
not  have  the  spirit  to  rise  up ;  and  in  the  second 
plax:e,  the  enemy  hearing  that  the  plague  has  broken 
out  among  us  will  fear  to  pitch  his  camp  here  lest 
it  fare  with  him  as  it  fared  with  King  Sennacherib, 
who  lost  his  whole  army  in  a  single  night,  as  the 
Bible  testifies. 

"  Believe  me,  my  dear  brother-in-law, 

'Always  aflFectionately  yours, 

*  Ambrose  Ligetl* 

"The  letter  is  addressed  to  the  noble  Benjamin 
Hetfalusy." 

"  Horrible,  horrible ! "  cried  two  or  three  of  the 
men,  while  the  rest  remained  speechless  with  amzize- 
ment 

"  Softly,  my  friends !  "  said  the  rector  soothingly. 
*  We  must  do  nothing  hastily.  So  much  is  certain, 
however:  they  have  designs  upon  our  lives,  and 
would  wipe  us  clean  out" 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it,  else  why  should  they  be  so 
friendly  towards  us?  Why  should  they  distribute 
among  us  such  a  lot  of  food?  We  have  never  yet 
asked  an  alms  from  our  masters,  and  hitherto  they 


Sf  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

have  snatched  the  food  from  our  very  mouths.  If 
they  caress  us  now  it  is  because  they  fear  us." 

"  Yes,  they  would  destroy  us.  The  other  day  they 
gave  me  a  glass  of  brandy  to  drink  at  the  tavern. 
I  saw  at  once  that  it  was  not  the  usual  sort  of  stuff, 
and,  to  make  certain,  I  dipped  a  bit  of  bread  in  it 
and  threw  it  to  a  dog,  and  he  would  not  eat  it" 

"  And  why  do  the  parsons  preach  so  much  about 
the  scourge  of  God,  the  pestilence?  Why  we  have 
never  had  a  better  promise  of  harvest  than  now. 
How  do  they  know  when  Death  will  come?  Only 
God  can  know  beforehand  whom  He  will  destroy 
and  whom  He  will  keep  alive." 

"  Suspend  your  judgments,  my  good  friends,** 
resumed  the  rector,  with  an  affectation  of  benevo- 
lence, "yx>u  can  see  that  the  hand  of  God  is  over 
us  alL  He  can  work  great  wonders,  and  it  is  not 
impossible  that  these  wonders  will  come.  You  can 
perceive  from  the  signs  of  Heaven  that  great 
changes  are  about  to  come  on  the  earth.  On  Good 
Friday  a  bloody  rain  fell  near  the  hill  of  Madi; 
not  long  ago  a  flaming  sword  was  visible  in  the  sky 
three  nights  running ;  everywhere  about  curious  big 
fungi  have  shot  up  from  the  ground,  which  turn 
red  or  green  immediately  they  are  broken.  Earth 
and  sky  seem  to  feel  that  the  hand  of  God  is  about 
to  press  heavily  upon  us." 

("  Deuce  take  this  instructor  of  the  people  for 
befooling  them  so  1 "  thought  Mr.  Korde  in  his  dog- 
kennel.) 

"  Did  you   notice,   my   brothers,   how   the  rats 


TWO  FAMOUS  PiEDAGOGUES.  85 

roamed  all  about  the  roads  in  broad  daylight  a 
fortnight  ago,  how  they  scuttled  away  from  our 
landlords'  granaries,  and  set  out  for  another  village, 
and  how  they  stiffened  and  died  in  heaps  on  the 
way?" 

"  There  you  are ! "  shouted  one  wiseacre,  "  the 
com  in  the  granary  was  poisoned !  '* 

("  Plague  take  thee,  thou  clodpole !  "  growled  the 
cantor  in  his  hiding-place;  "it  was  the  rats  that 
were  poisoned,  not  the  com.") 

"  And  we  borrowed  of  that  very  com  a  fortnight 
ago  to  last  us  till  harvest  time." 

"  Then  now  we'll  pay  them  back  with  interest !  * 
bellowed  one  of  the  rustics,  fiercely  flourishing  a 
pitchfork. 

("I'll  swear  that's  one  of  my  pupils,  he  is  so 
pugnacious,"  thought  the  cantor  to  himself.) 

"And  I  have  already  eaten  bread  made  of  that 
very  com,  God  help  me !  "  cried  another ;  "  it  is  as 
blue  as  a  toadstool  when  you  break  it  in  two." 

("  Lout !  Tares  and  other  rubbish  were  mixed  up 
with  it,  and  that  made  it  look  blue !  ") 

"  And  after  I  had  eaten  it  I  felt  like  to  bursting." 

("  Naturally,  for  your  wife  did  not  bake  it  suffici- 
ently, and  you  stuffed  it  into  your  greedy  jaws  while 
it  was  still  hot") 

"Yes,  not  a  doubt  of  it,  we  have  all  been 
poisoned,  we  have  eaten  of  Death." 

"  My  friends,  allow  me  to  put  in  a  word,"  said  the 
benign  rector.  "You  know  that  I  have  always 
desired  your  welfare;  but  look  now!  this  mortal 


86  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

danger  has  appeared  in  other  districts  also,  possib^ 
it  may  be  a  Divine  visitation.  There  are  villages 
in  which  two  or  three  deaths  have  occurred  in  every 
house,  there  are  other  places  in  which  whole  familiei 
down  to  the  very  last  poor  member  thereof  have 
followed  one  another  to  the  grave.  I  know  of  a 
man  who  a  short  time  ago  had  nine  sons,  now  he 
has  nine  corpses  with  him  in  the  house." 

"  The  gentry  have  killed  them  also  I'll  be  bound" 

**  It  is  so !  What  would  God  want  with  so  many 
dead  men?" 

"Have  patience  for  a  moment,  my  friends.  I 
don't  want  to  defend  the  gentry,  but  I  would  not 
condemn  anyone  unjustly.  If  there  be  any  truth 
in  this  fearful  accusation,  it  will  see  the  light  of  day 
sooner  or  later,  and  then  the  arm  of  God  will  not 
be  straitened." 

"  Thanks  for  nothing,  by  that  time  the  whole  lot 
of  us  will  be  under  the  sod." 

"  Produce  the  fellow  who  brought  this  letter !  " 

Two  stalwart  rustics  thereupon  brought  forward 
upon  their  shoulders  a  young  fellow,  bound  and 
pinioned  like  a  trapped  wolf,  and  put  him  down  in 
the  midst  of  the  mob. 

"This  is  the  bird  who  was  carrying  about  the 
message  of  death !  "  cried  the  rebels,  surrounding 
the  poor  wretch.  And  then  one  pulled  his  hair, 
and  another  tugged  at  his  ears,  and  a  third  tweaked 
his  nose,  and  everyone  of  them  was  dehghted  ta 
have  foimd  a  fresh  object  od  which  to  wreak  their 
furious  cruelty. 


TWO  FAMOUS  PiEDAGOGUES.  87 

And  all  the  time  the  fellow  ground  his  teeth 
together  and  said  nothing. 

It  was  poor  Mekipiros.  It  was  his  mauled  and 
bruised  shape,  his  half-bestial  face  that  they  were 
torturing  and  tormenting.  There  is  no  sight  more 
terrible  than  that  of  a  tortured  beast  that  cannot 
speak. 

One  of  those  who  had  brought  him  thither  was 
the  headsman's  apprentice. 

This  fellow  whispered  some  words  in  the  ear  of 
the  rector,  and  then  placed  himself  behind  the  back 
of  the  fettered  monster.  His  face  assumed  cin  ex- 
pression of  cold  pitilessness,  he  bit  his  lips  as  if  he 
wanted  blood,  and  screwed  up  his  eyes. 

"  Harken  now,  my  dear  son !  "  said  the  rector  in 
a  gentle  voice ;  "  don't  fancy  we  want  to  do  you  any 
harm,  for  of  course  how  can  you  help  what  if 
written  in  this  letter ;  but  if  you  want  to  escape  scot 
free,  answer  truly  and  without  compulsion  to  the 
questions  that  I  am  about  to  put  to  you." 

The  headsman's  'prentice  with  twitching  features 
gazed  fixedly  at  the  interrogated  wretch. 

"  Who  gave  you  this  letter?  "  asked  the  rector. 

Mekipiros  sat  there  tied  with  cords  so  as  to  be 
almost  bent  double  with  his  head  between  his  knees, 
and  did  not  seem  to  be  aware  that  he  was  spoken 
ta 

"Do  you  hear?"  whispered  the  headsman's 
apprentice  hoarsely,  at  the  same  time  giving  him 
a  vicious  pinch. 

The  monster  set  up  a  howl,  which  lasted  only  for 


8S  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

an  instant,  then  he  was  silent  again,  and  his  face  did 
not  change. 

"  Is  it  not  true  now,  my  dear  son,  that  a  gentleman 
gave  you  this  letter?  "  asked  the  rector,  giving  the 
question  another  turn 

Mekipiros  made  no  reply. 

"  I'll  make  you  speak !  "  yelled  his  chief  persecu- 
tor with  gnashing  teeth,  and  seizing  his  head 
between  his  muscular  fists  he  shook  it  violently 
backwards  and  forwards.  "I'll  bring  you  to 
reason!" 

The  monster  kept  on  howling  so  long  as  his  hair 
was  being  tugged ;  his  eyes  vanished  completely,  hia 
head  seemed  to  have  grown  broader  than  it  was 
long ;  but  when  they  let  his  head  go  again  he  only 
grinned  derisively  and  said  nothing. 

"  My  son,  bethink  you  that  we  do  not  want  to  do 
you  any  harm  if  you  confess  everything,  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  we  shall  have  to  chastise  you  immerd- 
fully,  as  you  well  deserve,  if  you  stubbornly  remain 
silent — who  gave  you  this  letter?  " 

"  Speak,  you  wretched  dog !  What  were  you 
told  to  say  ?  Who  gave  you  this  letter  ?  "  hissed  the 
beadsman's  apprentice  in  his  ear. 

"  You  gave  it  to  me  I "  cried  the  wretch  defiantly. 

**  Scoimdrel  I  "  thundered  the  other  furiously,  at 
the  same  time  giving  the  prisoner  a  kick ;  "  so  yon 
want  to  palm  it  off  upon  me,  eh?  Hie,  there! — a 
rope!  "  The  fellow's  face  was  as  white  as  the  wall, 
perhaps  with  fear,  perhaps  with  anger.  The  rectoc 
also  grew  pale  foe  a  moment 


TWO   FAMOUS   PEDAGOGUES.  89 

*  Yes,  you  put  it  into  my  hand  and  told  me  that  I 
was  to " 

"Hold  your  tongue,  you  wretched  creature! 
Here  we  have  a  peaszint  cub  just  as  ragged  as  any- 
one of  us,  and  yet  he  takes  it  upon  himself  to  ruin 
his  own  kith  and  kia  I  caught  him  in  the  act  of 
sprinkling  a  white  powder  in  a  well,  and  the  water 
of  that  well  is  still  bubbling  and  boiling  from  the 
virulence  of  the  poison,  and  yet,  as  you  see,  he  has 
the  face  to  deny  it  alL" 

"  It  was  you  who  put  the  powder  in  my  pocket" 

"  Very  good,  I  suppose  you'll  say  next  that  I  put 
this  purse  of  gold  in  your  pocket  also?  You  are 
surprised,  eh?  You  had  better  say  you  got  it  from 
me,  we  shall  all  believe  you,  of  course.  Naturally 
I  have  sacks  and  sacks  of  gold  under  my  bed 
The  executioner  pays  his  'prentices  with  gold,  of 
course,  of  course." 

"  You  accursed  villain  I "  cried  an  old  peasant; 
"let  him  have  the  rope!  String  him  up  and  let 
him  swing ! " 

"  No,  my  friends,  we  must  not  kill  him,  we  have 
need  of  him^  he  must  live  because  he  knows  so 
much." 

"  Then  let  him  out  with  it** 

"  Oh,  he  will  talk  presently,"  said  the  headsman's 
'prentice,  and  folding  his  arms  he  stood  right  in 
front  of  the  defenceless  wretch.  "  My  lad,"  said  he, 
"you  know,  don't  you,  that  I  have  been  the 
headsman's  assistant  these  six  years?  You  know, 
don't    you,    that    I    am^   accustomed    to    torture 


90  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

and  kill  man  and  beast  in  cold  blood?  You 
know  the  sort  of  smile  with  which  I  am  wont  to 
reply  to  the  agonised  despair  of  my  victim,  and 
the  memory  of  it  ought  to  make  your  brain  freeze 
in  your  skulL  Very  well!  Let  me  tell  you  that 
I  am  prepared  to  practice  upon  you  all  the  rehne- 
ments  of  my  infernal  handiwork  if  you  do  not  say 
all  I  want  you  to?" 

"I  know  nothing* 

"Nothing?" 

**  I  have  forgotten  all  you  taught  me." 

"  You  lying  serpent !  Do  you  mean  to  say,  then, 
that  I  taught  you  anything?  You  can  see,  all  of  you, 
that  this  ripe  gallows-tree  blossom  is  determined  at 
any  cost  to  saddle  me  with  his  sins.  I'll  refreshen 
your  memory  for  you,"  murmured  the  headsman's 
assistant,  grinding  his  teeth.  "  Carry  him  over 
yonder  under  that  plank.  You  must  put  out  the 
lamp,  for  perchance  anyone  who  caught  sight  of 
his  face  might  feel  sorry  for  him.  Lay  him  on  that 
block.  Where  is  the  rope?  A  bucket  of  water 
here  in  case  he  faints  .  .  ." 

From  that  moment  the  cantor  saw  nothing  for 
the  darkness,  but  all  the  more  horrible,  therefore, 
were  the  pictures  which  his  imagination  painted 
for  bim  as  it  laid  hold  of  the  fragments  of  words  and 
sounds  which  reached  him  at  intervals  from  the 
outhouse. 

The  cold-blooded  murmuring  of  the  headsman's 
assistant 

The  inquisitorial  procedure  of  the  rector. 


TWO  FAMOUS   PEDAGOGUES.  91 

The  frantic  cursing  of  the  bystanders. 

And  from  time  to  time  a  despairir^  howl  uttered 
by  the  tortured  monster,  a  howl  which  set  the 
terrified  dog  a-barking,  and  made  him  scratch  up  the 
ground  beneath  the  gate  in  order  to  make  his  escape. 

The  cantor  began  to  shiver  as  with  ague. 

"  The  horrible  beast  won't  confess,"  he  heard  a 
couple  of  furious  voices  say  quite  close  to  him. 

"  Don't  howl  like  that,  but  answer  my  questions," 
hissed  the  rector,  evidently  losing  patience. 

"  The  wretched  creature  tires  me  out,"  grunted 
the  executioner.  "  He  bites  his  lips  and  smiles 
right  in  my  face  when  his  very  bones  are  cracking." 

"  Speak  the  truth,  and  you  shall  be  free.  We 
will  let  you  go." 

"  He's  still  laughing  at  me." 

Then  for  some  time  could  be  heard  a  great  bustle 
and  clatter  in  the  shed  out  yonder.  There  were 
sounds  of  hasty,  yet  cold-blooded  preparations  for 
completing  something  which  ought  to  have  been 
finished  long  before.  There  was  a  sound  of  running 
to  and  fro,  of  panting  and  puffing  and  straining. 

And  all  this  time  the  monster  kept  on  laughing 
defiantly,  though  now  and  then  he  set  up  an  un- 
earthly howl,  and  then  the  whole  assembly  cursed 
him  for  an  obstinate  gallows-bird. 

"  Red-hot  irons  here ! "  yelled  at  last  a  voice  of 
maligncint  fury,  and  immediately  three  of  the  boors 
set  off  running  towards  the  stable.  A  few  minutes 
later  the  cantor  saw  them  hastening  back  to  the 
^ed,  carrying  flaming  red  objects,  which  scattered 
a  long  trail  of  sparks  behind  them. 


^  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

"  Will  you  confess?  "  sounded  from  within. 

The  monster  yelled  in  the  most  ghastly  manner, 
and  then  could  be  heard  a  savage  gurgling  sound 
For  a  few  seconds  the  people  inside  the  shed  were 
silent,  and  then  they  could  be  heard  whispering 
to  each  other  with  mingled  surprise  and  amaze- 
ment t,  "If  the  cub  has  not  bitten  his  own  tongue 
outl'^ 

The  cantor  took  advantage  of  the  general  con- 
sternation to  crawl  forth  from  his  hiding-place  in 
the  darkness,  slipped  out  through  the  hole  scratched 
by  the  dog  beneath  the  gate,  and  then  set  off  running 
like  one  who  runs  down  a  steep  mountain-side ;  he 
can  with  his  eyes  fast  closed,  and  early  next  morn- 
ing he  was  found  huddled  up  on  the  threshold  of 
his  own  house  in  a  state  of  collapse. 

When  he  came  to  himself  he  sent  for  some  worthy 
men  of  his  acquaintance  whom  he  could  trust,  and 
told  them  privately  what  he  had  seen,  frequently 
hiding  his  face  during  his  narration,  as  if  to  shut 
out  the  spectacle  of  the  monster's  bloody  face. 

But  his  acquaintcuices,  after  Hstening  to  his  tak^ 
only  shook  their  heads,  and  remarked  to  one  another, 
what  a  horrible  thing  it  is  when  a  man  is  so  fond  of 
wine  that  it  takes  more  than  three  days  to  make 
him  get  sober  again. 

It  occurred  to  nobody  that  there  might  be  some 
truth  in  the  matter  after  alL  It  was  not  the  first 
time  that  Mr.  Korde  had  had  visions  of  copper-nosed 
owls  and  other  horrors.  ' 

**As  if  a  man  could  beheve  everything  that  Mck 
Korde  said !  * 


CHAPTER  VIL 

▲    MAN    OF    IRON4 

General  ViSrtessy  had  for  many  years  been  the 
commandant  of  a  military  station  in  Hungary. 
After  such  a  long  time  as  that,  men  get  to  be 
acquainted  with  one  another,  and  the  soldier  comes 
to  be  regarded  as  quite  a  member  of  the  family. 
The  townsfolk,  too,  begin  to  speak  of  him  as  a 
member  of  the  upper  classes;  no  great  entertain- 
ment is  considered  complete  without  him,  and 
the  ordinary  civilian  exchanges  greetings  with  him 
as  a  man  and  a  brother  in  all  places  of  public  resort 
The  county  makes  him  a  magistrate  on  account  of 
his  nimierous  distinguished  services;  he  receives 
the  freedom  of  the  city  for  the  same  reason ;  and, 
finally,  the  only  daughter  of  a  most  distinguished 
patrician  family,  impressed  by  the  gallant  soldier's 
noble  quahties,  consents  to  become  his  wife;  and 
thus  the  general,  as  citizen  and  roagistrate,  as  hus- 
band and  landlord,  becomes  rooted  by  the  strongest 
ties  to  the  soil  which  it  is  his  duty  els  a  soldier  to 
defend 
His  acquaintances  in  general  have  the  greatest 


94  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

confidence  in  him ;  his  tenants  allude  to  him  grate- 
fully, for  he  deals  mercifully  with  them ;  the  citizens 
regard  him  with  respectful  astonishment  when,  on 
the  outbreak  of  a  fire,  he  orders  out  his  soldiers, 
and  is  himself  the  first  to  clamber  to  the  top  of  the 
bummg  roof,  distributing  his  commands  in  the 
midst  of  danger  as  if  his  life  was  worth  no  more 
than  the  life  of  any  broken-down,  invalided  old 
soldier;  the  school  children  rejoice  at  the  sight  of 
him,  for  he  is  always  sure  to  be  in  his  place  on  the 
occasion  of  any  public  examination,  to  distribute 
sixpences  and  shillings  to  those  scholars  who  give 
the  best  answers,  and  exhort  them  to  hold  up  their 
heads  and  stand  upright  like  good  little  men! 
When  then,  after  this,  they  meet  him  in  the  street, 
the  little  fellows  throw  back  their  heads  and  stick 
out  their  chests  so  that  it  does  you  good  to  look  at 
them  For  the  General  dearly  loves  children.  Very 
frequently  they  break  his  windows  with  their  tops 
and  balls,  but  he  never  scolds  them  for  it,  and 
always  gives  them  back  their  playthings.  "  They 
are  but  children,  let  them  play ! "  says  he. 

In  society,  too,  he  is  a  most  agreeable,  amusing 
man,  polite  and  chivalrous  towards  ladies,  and  at 
public  entertainments  he  distinguishes  himself  by 
his  neat  Httle  speeches,  which  are  always  good- 
natured,  very  much  to  the  point,  and  seasoned  with 
attic  salt  of  a  piquant  but  not  too  pungent  quality. 
He  is  merciful  to  the  absurdities  of  his  fellow- 
citizens;  it  is  no  business  of  his  to  impress  them 
with  any  affectation  of  soldierly  gravity  or  stiffness ; 


A  MAN   OF   IRON.  95 

and  if  at  first  sight  his  stern,  clean-shaven  face — the 
regulation  countenance  of  soldiers  of  those  days — 
keeps  a  timid  stranger  somewhat  at  a  distance,  he 
has  only  to  open  his  mouth,  and  his  beautifully  pure 
Magyar  accent  and  intonation  prove  to  demonstra- 
tion that,  soldier  as  he  is,  he  has  remained  a  true  son 
of  his  fatherland — and  all  hearts  open  to  him  at  once. 

But  all  this  ceases  at  the  gate  of  the  barracksw 
Within  the  barrack  courtyard  there  is  an  end  to  all 
friendship,  kinsmanship,  camaraderie,  and  patron- 
age. He  is  no  longer  either  a  county  magistrate  or  an 
honorary  citizen.  He  has  done  with  all  those  quali- 
ties which  make  up  a  man's  social  amiability.  Here 
V6rtessy  is  only  a  soldier,  a  rigorous,  inexorable 
commandant,  who  never  overlooks  a  blimder,  and 
never  leaves  a  fault  unptmished. 

As  regards  the  good  school  children,  you  could 
give  them  no  better  encouragement  than  to  say  to 
them :  "  The  General  is  coming  and  will  pat  you  on 
the  shoulder !  "  but  there  was  nothing  so  terrible  to 
the  bad  school  children  as  to  be  threatened  with 
the  General  if  they  did  not  learn  their  lessons. 
"You'll  be  sent  to  the  General,  and  he  will  tap 
you  from  the  shoulder  to  the  heel  and  make  another 
man  erf  you  in  double-quick  time,"  people  used  to 
say  to  them. 

At  any  rate,  so  much  is  certain :  the  most  stub- 
bom,  pig-headed  louts,  whom  no  school  would  keep 
at  any  price,  when  sent,  despite  the  tesirs  and  pro- 
tests of  their  fond  mothers,  to  the  General's  estab- 
lishment^ used  to  return  from  thence  in  a  couple 


96  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

of  years  or  so  as  if  transformed.  They  had  become 
orderly,  methodical,  manly  fellows,  courteous,  tract- 
able, and  as  spick  and  span  as  if  they  had  just  been 
taken  out  of  a  band-box.  As  to  what  exactly 
happened  to  them  during  their  manipulation  in  this 
same  military  band-box  not  one  of  them  was  ever 
known  to  allude  in  a  boastful  spirit;  but  the  lay 
mind  had  a  very  strong  suspicion  that  not  much' 
time  was  wasted  inside  the  barracks  in  fine  talking. 

Moreover,  the  General  used  to  have  guilty  soldiers 
tied  up  and  well  whipped  without  first  stopping  to 
inquire  who  their  fathers  might  be.  With  him 
punishment  was  meted  out  with  no  regard  for 
persons.  It  was  the  uniform,  not  the  man  who 
happened  to  be  inside  it,  that  he  regarded  Wh«i 
his  soldiers  were  drawn  up  in  line  he  was  quite 
blind  to  the  fact  that  this  man  perhaps  was  the 
son  of  his  old  crony,  or  that  man  was  the  son  of  a 
county  magistrate — sergeants,  corporals,  ensigns,  and 
privates,  these  were  the  only  distinctions  he  ever 
made.  And  if  anybody  tried  to  distinguish  him- 
self by  appearing  on  parade  in  a  dirty  jacket,  he 
had  it  well  dusted  for  him  there  and  then  in  a  way 
the  individual  concerned  was  not  likely  to  forget 
in  a  hurry. 

Nor  did  the  General  ever  allow  anybody,  no 
matter  whom,  to  be  exempted  from  service.  The 
dear  little  gentlemen-cadets  had  to  pace  up  and 
down  when  on  guard,  with  seven-pound  muskets 
across  their  shoulders,  just  like  anybody  else,  though 
the  hearts  of  their  distinguished  mammas  almost 


A  MAN  OF  IRON,  97 

broke  at  the  sight,  when  they  drove  over  in  their  fine 
coaches  to  see  their  dsirlings.  Malingerers^  again, 
had  a  fearful  time  of  it  with  him.  Such  young 
gentlemen  never  wanted  to  go  to  the  hospital  more 
than  once.  Their  distinguished  mammas  would 
scurry  off  to  the  General  full  of  despair,  and  explcdn 
to  him  with  tears  in  their  eyes  that  this  or  that 
young  exquisite  lay  mortally  sick  in  the  hospital, 
would  he  allow  them  to  take  their  poor  darlings 
home,  or  at  least  let  them  come  to  the  hospital  to 
nurse  the  invalids  there,  or  send  them  nice  tempting 
dishes  from  home,  or  tell  the  family  doctor  to  call? 
No^  nothing  of  the  sort  The  General  used  to 
receive  them  buttoned  up  to  the  chin,  and  nothing 
on  earth  could  move  him.  The  proper  place  for 
the  fellow  was  the  barrack-hospital,  he  would  say, 
there  he  would  receive  proper  treatment  like  any 
other  of  His  Majesty's  soldiers;  the  regimental 
surgeons  had  quite  sufficient  science  to  cure  him. 
And  it  regularly  happened  that  after  a  four  or  five 
days'  coiurse  of  a  platter  of  coarse  barley  pottage, 
and  half  an  ounce  of  plain  black  commissariat  bread, 
the  young  gendeman  was  so  completely  cured  of 
every  bodily  ailment  that  he  had  never  the  faintest 
wish  ever  afterwards  to  divert  himself  in  the  hospital, 
but  preferred  instead  to  attend  to  his  daily 
duties. 

Nor  could  his  officers  boast  that  he  showed  them 
any  special  indulgence.  It  was  really  terrible  how 
he  contrived  to  fill  up  their  time  all  day  long :  in- 
struction, r^^imental  practice,  writing,  calculation, 

G 


98  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

technical  stuc^es  filled  up  every  hour  of  the  day. 
The  smoking-rooms  of  the  cafes  and  the  dvic 
promenades  very  rarely  saw  Vertessy*s  officers 
gathered  together  there.  The  officers  had  to  know 
everything  which  the  General  asked  them  about, 
and  were  often  obliged  to  work  out  for  themselves, 
with  the  aid  of  their  mother  wit,  the  details  of  their 
extremely  laconic  instructions.  Everyone  knew,  too, 
that  he  could  not  endure  the  slightest  suspicion  of 
cowardice;  if  an  officer  were  insulted,  he  Mras 
obliged  to  fight  in  defence  of  his  honour,  or  the 
regiment  was  made  too  hot  to  hold  him.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  townsmen  got  to  know  anything  of 
the  details  of  these  duels,  he  would  punish  severely 
all  the  officers  concerned  in  the  affair,  for  he  placed 
boastfulness  on  the  same  level  as  cowardice.  Such 
severity  had  this  good  effect  however,  that  the 
soldiers  tried  to  live  amicably  with  the  townsmen 
as  they  knew  very  well  that  it  would  be  impossible 
to  keep  dark  a  duel  with  any  of  the  black-coated 
gentry,  such  an  event  was  certain  to  be  an  object  of 
common  gossip  in  all  four  quarters  of  the  town 
within  twenty-fotu:  hours. 

It  was  also  a  recognised  fact  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  tiie  kingdom  that  the  officers 
of  Vertessy*s  regiment  were  all  well  instructed, 
orderly,  serious  men,  and  that  this  result  was  due 
entirely  to  the  initiative  of  "  the  iron  man,"  for  this 
was  the  name  most  usually  and  vexy  naturally 
applied  to  him. 

And  his  face,  figur^  and  cxpressioo^  oonespanded 


A  MAN  OF  IRON.  99 

with  the  name.  He  was  of  a  tall,  straight,  weH-knit- 
tc^ether  habit  of  body,  with  broad  shoulders  and 
a  well-rounded  chest  His  head  seemed  almost 
too  small  for  his  extraordinary  developed  body, 
especially  as  the  chestnut-brown  hair  was  clipped 
quite  short  His  face  was  of  a  deep  red,  and  shaved 
to  Qie  chin,  but  a  pair  of  small  well  kept  semi- 
circular whiskers  helped  to  give  it  character.  His 
nose  was  straight,  his  mouth  small ;  his  eyes  were 
grey  and  piercing.  And  everything  on  this  face: 
nose,  mouth,  eyes,  down  to  the  smallest  feature, 
seemed  one  and  all  to  be  under  the  most  rigorous 
military  discipline,  not  one  of  them  Wcis  suffered 
to  move  without  the  General's  command.  When 
once  his  features  axe  imder  orders  to  be  coldly 
severe,  the  lips  may  not  give  expression  to  joy, 
the  eyes  may  not  be  clouded  with  sorrow,  the 
eyebrows  may  not  contract  with  rage,  or  lead  anyone 
to  suspect,  by  so  much  as  a  twitch  or  a  jerk,  that 
anything  in  the  world  outside  has  the  slightest 
influence  upon  the  business  he  may  happen  to  have 
on  hand. 

We  may  add  that  the  General  did  not  acquire 
this  honourable  title  in  times  of  peace.  Formerly, 
beneath  the  walls  of  Dresden,  when  he  was  a  lieu- 
tenant scarcely  five-and-twenty  years  old,  he  had 
earned  it  by  holding  a  position  on  the  battle-field 
as  stubbornly  as  if  he  had  really  been  made  of 
cast  iron,  whereby  a  totally  defeated  army  corps  was 
saved  from  the  annihilating  pursuit  of  the  tri- 
tunphant   foe.       Even    the   enemy's    general    had 


100  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

inquired  on  this  occasion :  "  Who  is  that  man  of  iron 
who  will  neither  break  nor  bend?"  That,  then, 
was  how  he  had  won  the  epithet  "  iron." 

Subsequently  the  nickname  was  applied  in  jest 
or  flattery;  you  could  take  it  as  spite,  fear,  or 
homage,  according  to  the  manner  in  which  it  was 
pronounced,  naturally  always  behind  the  GeneraFs 
back,  for  it  went  very  hard  indeed  with  the  man 
who  ventured  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  him,  and  still 
harder,  if  possible,  with  anybody  who  tried  to  flatter 
him. 


In  the  ante-chamber  of  "  the  iron  man  "  stood  an 
orderly  with  a  big  sealed  dispatch  in  his  hand,  a 
tall  grenadier-sort  of  warrior,  with  two  stiffly  twisted 
moustachios,  the  pointed  ends  of  which  projected 
like  a  couple  of  fixed  bayonets.  A  deep  scar 
furrowed  each  of  his  red  cheeks  from  end  to  end, 
a  living  testimony  to  the  fact  that  this  warrior  was 
no  mere  sucking  soldier.  His  chin  was  planted 
firmly  on  his  stiff  cravat  and  half  hidden  by  the 
broad  loop  of  his  shako.  His  jacket  was  as  white 
as  chalk,  and  his  buttons  shone  as  if  they  were  fresh 
from  the  shop.  On  his  bosom  gleamed  gloriously 
the  large  copper  medal  of  which  the  veterans  of 
former  days  used  to  be  so  proud.  The  warrior  was 
standing  motionless  behind  the  door,  with  the  big 
sealed  dispatch  in  his  bosom ;  not  a  muscle  of  him 
moves,  his  heels  are  pressed  close  together  at  atten- 
tion, his  eyes  now  and  then  glance  furtively  from  side 
to  side,  but  his  neck  does  not  stir  the  least  little  bit 


A  MAN   OF  IRON,  loi 

The  oblique  motion  of  his  eyes,  however,  is 
explicable  by  the  fact  that  a  trim  little  wench,  ai 
nursery-maid  from  some  village  hard  by,  with  a 
round  radiant  face,  with  her  hair  trailing  down 
her  back  in  ribboned  pigtails,  is  rummaging  about 
tiie  room  as  if  she  had  no  end  of  work  to  do  there; 
casting  furtive  sheep's  eyes  from  time  to  time  at  the 
upright  soldier,  and  looking  as  if  she  would  very 
much  like  to  say  to  him :  "  Oh  I  how  frightened  I 
am  of  you !  " 

"  Why  don't  you  sit  down,  Mr.  Soldier?  "  she  says 
at  last ;  "  don't  you  see  that  chair  there?  And  bene 
have  I  been  dusting  it  so  nicely  for  you." 

"  A  pretty  thing  for  an  orderly  to  sit  down  in  the 
General's  ante-chamber,"  replies  the  defender  of  his 
country.  "  Short  irons  would  be  very  soon  ready 
for  me,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  Then  why  are  you  here  at  all?  ** 

"  That  is  not  for  your  ears,  my  little  sister." 

"You  are  looking  for  the  General,  eh?  Well, 
he  is  inside  that  room  there  along  with  my  lady, 
his  wife — ^why  don't  you  go  in?  " 

"You've  a  nice  idea  of  manners^  I  must  say  I 
What!  an  orderly  to  maJ^e  his  way  into  the  room 
of  the  General's  lady  I" 

"  Then  give  the  letter  here  and  I'll  take  it  in  for 
you." 

"Now,  my  Httle  sister,  that's  quite  enough  I 
What!  deliver  a  letter  into  the  hands  of  anybody 
but  the  person  to  whom  it  is  addressed !  " 

*  Do  you  know  how  to  write,  Mr.  Orderly?  " 


jl03_'      '   ;tj£E    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

"What  a  question!  Ask  me  another!  Why,  if 
I  could  write  I  should  have  become  a  sergeant  long 
ago. 

"  Why  don't  you  take  ofiF  that  shako?  It's  pretty 
heavy,  ain't  it?" 

"Now,  my  little  wench,  that's  quite  enough! 
Right  about  turn,  quick  march!  They  are  calling 
you  in  the  kitchen." 

The  nursery-maid  scuttled  off.  The  veteran  was 
getting  quite  angry  at  all  these  simple  questions. 

In  no  very  long  time,  however,  the  neat  little 
wench  came  sidling  back  again.  First  she  poked 
her  head  through  the  kitchen  door  as  if  she  wanted 
to  find  out  whether  the  big  soldier  there  would  bite 
off  her  nose — ^which  was  a  Uttle  snub,  and  small 
enough  already. 

"  Mr.  Orderly,  the  cook  has  sent  you  three  hearth 
cakes." 

"  Good." 

"Take  them  then."  This  she  said,  still  keeping 
at  a  safe  distance,  and  thrusting  forward  the  nice 
lard-made  hearth  cakes  as  if  she  were  offering  them 
to  some  snappy,  snarling  watch-dog  at  the  end  of  a 
long  chain. 

"  I  can't"  answered  the  gallant  defender  of  his 
country  sturdily. 

"  Ain't  you  got  hands,  then?  ** 

"  No,  not  for  them.  But  if  you  like  you  can  tuck 
them  into  my  cartridge-box  behind  there." 

"  What,  in  there  ?  "  inquired  snub-nose  amazedl/t 
*  But  ain't  there  gunpowder  inside?  " 


A  MAN  OF  IRON.  149 

"  Shove  'em  in,  they  won't  hurt  it* 

"Won't  it  explode?" 

"  Not  unless  a  spark  from  your  eyes  catches  It*' 

The  nursery-maid  timidly  lifted  the  brightly- 
polished  lid  of  the  cartridge-box,  peeping  half  up 
at  the  soldier  to  see  if  he  meant  to  frighten  her,  and 
at  the  same  time  gazing  curiously  at  the  many 
funny  round  little  things  in  the  cartridge-box,  at 
which  she  pretended  to  be  desperately  afraid 

The  gallant  soldier  was  in  duty  bound  not  to 
move  his  hand,  but  he  so  far  relaxed  as  to  allow 
the  tips  of  two  of  his  fingers  to  crook  downwards 
and  give  the  plump  round  arm  of  the  wench  a  good 
tweak 

"  Be  off  with  you,  I'm  afraid  you're  a  bad  man 
after  all,  Mr.  Soldier!" 

"  I  fancy  I  am  too,  otherwise  I  suppose  there 
would  not  have  been  so  much  of  me — little  and 
good  you  know !  " 

"  Do  you  know  why  the  cook  sent  you  those 
cakes?" 

"  That  I  may  eat  them  instead  of  you,  I  suppose." 

"  Go  along,  you  naughty  man !  You  do  say  such 
naughty  things !  No,  she  sent  them  that  you  might 
tell  her  when  the  next  public  whipping  will  take 
place." 

"Does  the  cook  want  to  see  it  then?  A  nice 
pastime,  I  must  say.  You  don't  want  to  see  it  too, 
do  you?" 

"  No,  not  I." 

*'  You  ought  to  see  it    It  is  just  the  thing  for 


Z04  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

wenches.  There  are  always  as  many  ladies  present 
on  such  occasions  as  if  it  was  play-acting." 

**  OU  I  should  like  to  see  it  then,  the  sooner  the 
better.  Will  there  be  another  soon?  That's  for 
the  General  to  decide,  isn't  it?  If  I  were  a  General 
I  would  order  a  flogging  every  morning,  and  make 
the  band  play  every  evening.** 

**  That  would  be  very  nice.  Come  hither,  and  I 
will  whisper  it" 

"Truly?**  inquired  the  wench,  half  turning  her 
head  round.    "  But  don't  shout  in  my  ear !  ** 

When  she  had  got  near  enough  to  the  soldier  for 
him  to  be  able  to  whisper  in  her  ear,  he  suddenly 
planted  a  smacking  kiss  on  her  red  cheek. 

In  her  terror  the  wench  gave  a  bound  back  to  the 
kitchen  door,  but  there  she  remained  standing,  and 
rubbed  her  face  vigorously  with  her  blue  apron. 

"Yes,  you  are  indeed  a  bad  man,  Mr.  Orderly. 
And  still  you  have  not  yet  told  me  when  the  next 
whipping  will  be.'* 

"  Don't  fret,  my  little  sister.  The  spectacle  wiU 
be  better  than  you  think.  There  will  be  a  shootings- 
to-death  shortly.** 

"A  shooting-to-death!  Oh!  that  will  be  nice! 
And  who  is  going  to  be  shot?  ** 

*A  soldier,  my  Httle  sister.'* 

**  And  you'll  have  to  shoot  him,  perhaps*  eh?  ' 

•  It  is  quite  possible,  my  Httle  sister.*' 

*0h,  Mr.  Soldier,  thafs  too  badl*' 

The  snub-nosed  wench  made  haste  to  quit  a  room 
io  which  stood  a  man  heartless  enough  to  shoot 


A  MAN  OF  IRON.  X05 

down  his  living  fellow-man,  and  outside  in  the 
kitchen  she  had  a  long  discussion  with  the  cook 
about  it,  and  they  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it 
must  be  a  very  fine  entertainment  to  see  a  man  shot 
right  through  the  head.  First  there  would  be  the 
getting  up  early,  for  such  spectacles  generally 
take  place  at  dawn,  and  it  would  never  do  to  sleep 
away  such  an  opportunity  as  that,  especially  as  it 
was  just  as  likely  as  not  that  the  poor  devil  would 
be  placed  in  the  piUory  first  What  could  he  have 
been  doing?  But  suppose  they  were  to  pardoo 
him?  Oh,  no!  no  chance  of  that,  for  the  General 
never  pzirdons  anybody;  even  if  it  were  his  own 
SOD  he  would  not  pardon  him  if  he  were  found 
guilty,  for  he  was  "  the  iron  man." 


Meanwhile,  inside  there,  "  the  uron  man  "  is  sitting 
in  his  wife's  room  on  a  small  embroidered  armless 
chair.  Opposite  to  him  on  a  large  elevated  divan 
hes  his  wife,  a  tiny,  elegant,  transparent  httle  lady, 
with  a  face  of  alabaster,  and  wee  wee  hands  which  a 
child  of  two  would  not  have  known  what  to  do  with 
if  they  had  been  doled  out  to  her.  Her  small  straw- 
berry-like mouth  scarcely  seemed  to  have  been  made 
for  talking  purposes ;  all  the  more  eloquent,  on  the 
other  hand,  were  her  large  dark-blue  eyes,  which 
were  saying  at  that  moment  that  those  who  can 
love  are  very,  very  happy. 

The  iron  man  was  sitting  in  front  of  her  with  his 
dbows  planted  on  his  knees  and  both  his  hands 


Xo6  THE    DAY    OF    WRATIL 

stretched  forwards.  Extended  on  these  tvro  hands 
of  his  was  a  skein  of  thread,  which  the  elegant  Uttle 
woman  was  winding  with  great  rapidity. 

He  need  only  have  stretched  his  arms  a  wee 
bit  more  to  burst  the  whole  skein  to  pieces,  but  he 
has  learnt  to  watch  very  carefully  lest  the  thread 
gets  entangled,  and  he  laughs  heartily  every  time  he 
moves  his  hands  clumsily,  at  the  same  time  begging 
pardon  and  promising  to  do  better  in  future. 

"  My  darling,  I  have  an  old  sword — ^it  served  me 
well  in  the  French  war— do  you  think  it  would  be 
of  any  use  to  you  ?  " 

The  little  lady  laughed,  and  how  charmingly  she 
could  laugh;  it  sounded  like  the  bells  of  a  glass 
harmonica  striking  against  each  other. 

"  I  understand  the  allusion.  If  you  can  use  the 
owner  of  the  sword  for  imwinding  thread,  you  might 
use  his  sword  instead  of  scissors." 

"  I  mean  what  I  say." 

"  That  doesn't  matter  a  bit,  you  must  wait  till  the 
skein  is  unwound." 

"  Naturally  that  is  as  it  should  be,  of  course.  Nor 
would  I  suffer  anybody  else  to  take  my  place.  To 
hold  a  skein  of  thread  requires  g^eat  strength  of 
mind,  not  every  man  is  up  to  it  A  giddy  head 
would  very  soon  give  way  beneath  the  task.  It  is 
a  science  in  itself.  Besides,  I  swore  before  the 
parson  I  would  take  you  'for  better  or  worse.* 
You  see  how  I  keep  my  word.  Look  there  now! 
The  thread  has  tied  itself  into  a  knot  again.  Now, 
if  one  of  your  parlour-maids  had  been  holding  it 


A  MAN   OF  IRON.  lof 

you  would  have  been  angry  with  her,  but  as  mj^ 
darhng  little  wife  it  is  not  lawful  for  you  to  b« 
angry.  Do  you  hear  me?  It  is  not  lawful  for  yoa 
to  be  angry  with  me,  I  say." 

The  little  lady  imdid  the  knot  again,  and  hcf 
husband  teiiderly  kissed  the  Httle  intervening  hand 
as  it  drew  nearer;  the  little  lady  affected  not  to 
have  observed  this,  but  she  knew  it  well  enough. 

"  Look  now,  my  darling !  it  is  you  who  have 
taught  me  to  consider  myself  an  extraordinary  fine 
fellow.  Formerly,  when  people  used  to  say: 
General  Vertessy  is  such  and  such  a  man,  I  only 
used  to  hold  my  tongue  and  think  to  myself :  Talk 
away!  talk  away!  7  happen  to  know  that  V6rtessy 
is  as  timid  as  a  child,  there  is  one  thing  he  is  as 
much  in  dread  of  as  any  schoolgirl,  and  that  is — 
unravelling  a  skein  of  thread  When  I  was  a  little 
chap  I  twice  ran  away  from  home  to  avoid  this 
very  thing.  And  now  my  dear  little  spouse  has 
made  it  quite  clear  to  me  that  General  Vertessy 
is  not  afraid  of  it  after  alL  Honour  to  whom  honour 
is  due !     General  Vertessy  is  a  brave  man." 

"  Naturally ;  why  the  thirteenth  labour  of  Hercules 
brought  him  more  fame  than  all  the  rest — don't  yoa 
remember  how  he  held  the  skeins  of  Madame 
Omphale?" 

"  That  was  the  greatest  of  his  heroic  exploits, 
certainly.  You  ladies  cannot  imagine  what  tyranny 
you  practice  upon  the  masculine  gender  when  yoo 
constrain  them  to  this  terrible  servitude.  To  wear 
chains  is  a  mere  jest,  but  when  you  bind  a  man  with 


la  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

a  skein  of  thread,  a  mere  gossamer,  in  fact,  and  then 
tdl  him  he  must  not  break  it  astmder,  that  is  cruelty 
indeed!  Why  don't  the  English  invent  a  machine 
for  this  sort  of  hard  labour?  They  rack  their 
brains  about  steamboats,  about  woman's  rights,  and 
the  emancipation  of  the  negro,  but  as  to  these,  f  etter% 
these  .  .  ." 

"  Come,  come,  attend  to  your  skein !  ** 

And  indeed  those  dangerous  fetters,  as  the 
General  called  them,  were  themselves  in  great 
danger,  for  the  General  in  his  ardour  had  made  a 
slight  gesture  which  had  almost  ripped  them 
asunder. 

"  I'll  take  it  away  from  you  if  you  don't  behave 
yourself  properly.  Fancy  making  such  lamentations 
over  a  little  skein-unravelling !  " 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  speaking  of  myself.  I  am  used  to 
all  sorts  of  hardships.  I  pity  more  particularly  those 
poor  iimocent  children  who  come  to  groan  under 
this  unnatural  yoke.  Just  picture  to  yourself,  my 
dear,  one  such  innocent  eight  or  nine  years  old,  a 
httle  lad  whose  blood  bubbles  over  like  champagne, 
who  sees  the  sun  shining  through  the  windows,  who 
hears  the  boisterous  mirth  of  his  comrades  outside 
as  they  play  at  ball,  and  would  give  anything  to  run 
away  himself  and  romp  and  wrestle  and  turn  somer- 
saults ;  fancy  such  a  one  obliged  to  remain  shut  up 
in  a  room,  fettered  by  a  string  of  thread  or  cotton, 
and  made  to  move  his  hands  up  and  down  just  as 
if  he  were  some  stupid  machine ;  fancy  him  fidget- 
ing first  on  one  leg  and  then  on  another,  and 
waiting,  waiting  for  the  end  of  the  interminable 


A  MAN   OF  IRON.  109 

skein  1  I  wonder  they  don't  become  utter  block- 
heads beneath  the  strain.  I  wonder  their  teachers 
don't  forbid  it  If  I  had  a  child  he  should  not  be 
allowed  to  hold  a  skein.  No  son  of  mine,  I  tell 
you,  should  ever  become  a  mere  skein-xmwinding 
machine  .  .  ." 

And  it  seemed  somehow  more  than  a  jest,  for  the 
gallant  soldier  now  suddenly  forgot  all  about  the 
skein  entrusted  to  him,  and  with  tender  emotion 
pressed  his  blushing  little  wife  to  his  bosom. 

The  little  lady  with  infinite  patience  slowly  dis- 
entangled the  chaotic  labyrinth  of  threads  agaii^ 
and  then  exclaimed  with  a  deep  sigh : 

"Life  and  death  lie  between  .  .  ." 

They  both  knew  the  meaning  of  the  allusion. 

Then  the  uninterrupted  labour  proceeded  agaliL 
The  iron  man  was  now  completely  silent,  but  one 
could  observe  from  the  unconsciously  radiant  ex- 
pression of  his  face  that  his  mind  was  occupied  by 
some  very  pleasing  thought,  and  in  the  delightful 
contemplation  thereof  he  had  no  longer  any  idea 
that  he  was  holding  a  skein  of  thread. 

Presently,  however,  he  said : 

"  Let  us  begin  another !  " 

He  must  certainly  have  found  it  a  very  agreeable 
pastime  to  say  that 

It  was  this  time  a  skein  of  silk  that  the  little  lady 
wanted  to  have  unwound.  This  was  a  still  higher 
symbol  of  tenderness.  Not  in  vain  does  the  folk- 
song sing  of  the  captive  of  love  being  bound  with 
silken  chainsn. 


9110  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

"  But,  my  dear,  when  I  was  a  little  boy,  and  had 
to  hold  skeins,  my  sisters,  by  way  of  compensation, 
used  to  tell  me  talesw" 

"With  all  my  heart** 

•  Fire  away,  then :  once  upon  a  time  .  .  . ! " 

"  Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  girl  who  always 
wanted  to  die." 

**  Ah !  I  scarcely  bargained  for  that." 

"  She  was  constantly  pale,  and  took  it  for  a  com- 
pliment when  people  said  to  her  that  she  was  as 
white  as  death." 

"She  must  have  eaten  lots  of  raw  coffee  and 
chalk,  I'll  be  bound." 

"  Don't  interrupt,  I  want  to  tell  a  tale,  not  circu- 
late scandal." 

"  I  am  all  attention." 

"  Sometimes  she  carried  her  bizarre  ideas  so  far 
as  to  appear  at  dances  in  a  white  dress  trinmied  with 
black,  and  with  a  myrtle  wreath  on  her  head,  just 
as  the  dead  are  wont  to  be  arrayed  for  the  tomb. 
By  way  of  a  breast-pin  she  used  to  wear  a  small 
skeleton's  head  carved  out  of  mother-o'-pearl,  and 
she  bocLsted  that  her  gloves  had  been  taken  out  of 
the  coffin  of  a  deceased  friend." 

"Shall  I  be  very  unfeeling  if  I  allow  myself  to 
smile?" 

"  Pray  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  or  you'll  be  very 
sorry  in  a  moment" 

"Ah,  ha!  I  know  a  man  who  fell  in  love  with 
this  girl" 

"  All  the  more  reasoo  to  be  serious.** 


A  MAN  OF  IRON.  iii 

**  And  subsequently  that  man  got  the  better  of  his 
passion  altogether." 

•Do  not  be  too  sura-' 

"Too  sure!  Why,  I  have  been  stadying  the 
whole  case  these  four  years." 

"As  defendant?" 

"  Defendant,  indeed !  I  wanted  to  make  that  girl 
my  wife  Oh!  you  were  quite  a  little  thing  then, 
a  wee  wee  httle  lass,  scarcely  so  big  as  my  finger. 
You  were  learning  to  dance  in  those  days  and  had 
not  yet  appeared  upon  the  scene." 

"And  you  deserted  that  girl  on  the  eve  of  tfao 
wedding!" 

"I  had  reasons  for  doing  so,  of  which  nobody, 
I  fancy,  is  aware" 

"  They  said  at  the  time  that  you  found  out  that 
Benjamin  HetfaJusy,  the  girrs  father,  was  over  head 
and  ears  in  debt,  and  that  you  withdrew  for  that 
reason." 

"I  did  not  take  the  trouble  to  contradict  the 
rumour,  it  was  so  like  General  V6rtessy  to  many 
for  money." 

"  And  the  HetfaJusy  family  became  of  course  your 
bitterest  enemies  ever  afterwards?" 

"  They  have  insulted,  but  they  cannot  wound  ma* 

"And  you  forgave  them  for  it?" 

**  I  never  troubled  my  head  about  theia* 

"  Say  that  you  forgive  them." 

*I  don't  want  to  flatter  myself.    I  simply  forgot 
them." 

"Very  well,  now  let  «s  go  otn  with  our  stoiy^ 


Xl9  THE   DAY    OF   WRATH. 

This  poor  family  has  had  many  heavy  visitations  of 
late." 

V6rtessy'9  face  grew  very  grave 

"My  dear,  I  am  afraid  your  skein  of  silk  will 
break  asunder  on  my  arms  if  you  go  on  with  such 
stories.  Don't  speak  to  me  of  the  calamities  of  the 
H'6tfalusy  family.  I  am  not  at  all  interested  in  the 
happiness  of  these  people,  and  if  they  are  wretched 
I  don't  want  to  hear  anything  about  it  They  seem 
to  have  always  been  bent  upon  tempting  Fate,  so 
that  it  is  not  surprising  if  Fate  at  last  has  turned 
upon  them.  But  I  don't  want  to  know  anything 
about  it  I  am  not  good  enough  to  grieve  with 
them  in  their  misfortunes,  and  I  am  not  bad  enough 
to  rejoice  in  their  misery.  Leave  the  subject  alone, 
my  dear  Cornelia." 

Cornelia  put  down  the  httle  ball  of  silk,  relieved 
her  husband's  arms  of  the  skein,  and  then  sitting 
beside  him  on  a  little  stool,  kept  on  stroking  him 
with  her  tiny  hands  until  she  had  quite  smoothed 
out  all  the  angiy  wrinkles  on  his  face,  and  he  had 
brightened  up  again  and  declared,  like  a  good  little 
boy,  that  he  was  not  a  bit  put  out  and  would  listen 
to  the  story  again. 

"Poor  Leonora!  her  married  life  was  veiy  un- 
happy." 

"  But  she  got  what  she  wanted" 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  you  know  more  of  my  story 
than  I  do  myself." 

"I  only  know  the  happy  part  of  it  Was  not 
her  husband  her  youthful  ideal?  ** 


A  MAN  OF  IRON.  113 

"You  amaze  mc  Whenever  we  used  to  meet 
subsequently,  she  was  always  full  of  lamentations^ 
and  described  herself  as  very  unhappy.  To  my 
mind  she  only  took  Sz^phalmi  out  of  bravado, 
because  you  deserted  her." 

"  My  dear,  after  that  I  must  whisper  in  your  ear 
something  which  only  one  other  soul  in  the  world 
but  myself  knows  anything  about  I  am  sure  you 
will  not  say  anything  about  it,  because  you  are  good, 
and  that  other  person  will  be  silent  because  she  is 
afraid  to  speak  That  pale  lady  who  was  so  fond 
of  thinking  of  death,  who  went  to  a  ball  in  a  myrtle 
wreath  and  a  white  dress  with  a  black  fringe,  used  to 
have  assignations  in  the  dilapidated  hut  of  an  old 
village  granny  with  a  youth  who  was  no  other  than 
Szephalmi,  her  present  husband  The  affair  was 
kept  so  secret  that  nobody  knew  anything  about  it 
The  old  hag,  why  I  know  not,  confided  the  secret 
to  me  on  the  very  day  when  I  arrived  at  H6tfalu 
Castle  in  readiness  for  the  wedding.  It  was  as  I 
have  said.  My  pale  moonbeam,  when  everybody 
was  asleep  in  the  castle,  used  to  put  on  a  peasant 
girl's  garb,  wrap  her  head  in  a  flowered  kerchief, 
and  glide  all  alone,  along  the  garden  paths,  to  the 
old  woman's  hut  at  the  end  of  the  village,  where  the 
youth,  disguised  as  a  shepherd,  was  waiting  for  her. 
Oh!  this  intimacy  was  of  long  standing.  I  heard 
them  talking  to  each  other.  In  my  first  mad 
paroxysm  of  rage,  I  was  for  rushing  out  and  killing 
the  pair  of  them  on  the  spot ;  but  gradually  I  re- 
covered my  senses,  and  I  asked  myself  whether  it 

H 


114  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

was  not  more  shameful  for  me,  a  soldier,  to 
lave  pried  upon  a  woman  than  for  that  woman 
to  have  deceived  me.  Besides,  what  was  there  to 
be  done  if  she  loved  another?  She  ought  not,  of 
course,  to  have  promised  me  her  hand — a  hand 
without  a  heart  must  bring  dishonour  with  it  I 
said  nothing  to  anybody.  I  went  back  to  the  castle, 
and  the  next  day  I  had  an  interview  with  the  girl's 
father,  and  made  pecuniary  demands  upon  him, 
which,  in  view  of  the  shattered  state  of  his  finances^ 
I  knew  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  comply  with. 
We  split  upon  that  very  point  There  was  no 
marriage.  The  guests  separated  The  world 
laughed  I  was  cried  down  as  a  money-grubber, 
and  for  a  long  time  I  was  in  such  bad  odour,  that 
I'll  wager  anything  that  if  I  had  sued  for  the 
hand  of  any  respectable  girl  her  relations  would 
have  shown  me  the  door  in  double-quick  time.  My 
darling  little  ComeHa  certainly  displayed  great 
strength  of  mind  to  accept  a  man  who  was  notorious 
for  having  jilted  his  bride." 

"  And  you  had  to  endure  a  whole  heap  of  perse- 
cutions in  consequence." 

"  Yes,  a  great  many.  The  Hetfalusys  had  power- 
ful kinsfolk  who  did  their  utmost  to  make  life  in- 
tolerable to  me.  A  nephew  of  Benjamin's,  who  was 
an  officer  in  the  g^£Lrds>  inisulted  me  publicly  in  the 
street  The  most  damaging  insinuations  were  made 
against  me  in  high  places.  All  my  measures  were 
openly  and  freely  criticized  They  sought  to  embroil 
me  with  the  county  authorities.     I  was  persecuted 


A   MAN   OF  IRON.  115 

by  high  and  low.  I  defended  myself  and  held  my 
tongue.  I  fought  duels,  I  had  an  answer  for  every- 
one. I  suffered  in  silence — but  I  never  betrayed 
that  lady's  secret  Keep  what  I  have  told  you  in 
the  depths  of  your  heart,  my  darling,  as  I  have  done 
hitherto." 

Cornelia  kissed  her  husband's  high  open  forehead, 

"  Yet  poor  Leonora  had  her  punishment  too,"  said 

she;    "he  whom  she  longed  after  so  much  when 

once    she    possessed    him    made    her    wretched* 

Sz6phalrm  was  unfaithful  to  her." 

"  My  dear  Cornelia,  you  cannot  have  love 
without  respect  Szephalmi  only  married  his  wife 
because  her  desperation  drove  him  to  do  so,  I 
have  often  heard  people  say  that  Leonora  used  to 
dance  at  parties  as  if  she  wished  to  kill  herself,  and 
would  drink  quantities  of  iced  water  when  she  was 
in  a  most  heated  condition.  It  was  no  longer 
a  pretence  with  her.  What  scenes  took  place  at 
home  between  her  mother  and  herself  it  was  no 
business  of  mine  to  pry  into ;  but  this  I  know  right 
well  that  the  girl  one  day  went  straight  to  Szephalmi 
and  threatened  him  there  and  then  with  something 
terrible  if  he  did  not  marry  her.  I  will  not  tell  you, 
Leonora's  former  friend,  the  nature  of  this  threat ;  it 
would  revolt  your  pure  mind  too  much,  for  a  heart 
like  yours  could  form  no  idea  of  it ;  but  it  is  certain 
that  it  was  fear  rather  than  love  which  induced 
Szephalmi  to  lead  her  to  the  altar.  I  know, 
hov/ever,  that  the  marriage  was  not  unblessed  ;  they 
have  two  children." 


5K6  the    day   of   wrath. 

"They  had*' 

"  What!  are  they  dead  then?  " 

**A  terrible  destiny  seems  to  oppress  the  whole 
family.  The  little  girl,  her  father's  darling,  dis- 
appeared one  day  without  leaving  a  trace  behind 
her,  and  the  other  child  Wcls  struck  dead  by  light- 
ning while  the  mother  was  watching  by  its  sick 
bed ;  the  mother  was  killed  at  the  same  time." 

The  General  was  deeply  affected  by  these  words. 
The  heart  of  the  iron  man  trembled. 

"Merciful  God  .  .  .!" 

"  Old  H6tfalusy  had  a  stroke  when  the  dreadful 
tidings  reajched  him." 

**  No,  no!  He  did  not  deserve  so  much  suffering. 
Fate  has  been  more  rigorous  towards  him  than  he 
deserved." 

"And  as  if  this  were  not  enough — you  knew 
H6tfalusy's  son  who  became  a  soldier?  " 

**  I  knew  him.  He  was  a  hot-blooded  youth,  war- 
fare might  have  made  a  good  soldier  of  him." 

"Well,  he  quarrelled  with  his  captain  in  Poland 
and  fired  a  pistol  at  hinL" 

*A  misfortune,  a  great  misfortune,"  said  the 
General,  pressing  his  fists  so  tightly  together  that 
if  there  had  been  anything  inside  them  it  would  have 
been  crushed  to  pieces. 

"  After  this  deed  the  youth  fled" 

*  That  is  worse  still,"  murmured  the  General,  and 
be  pressed  his  iron  fists  still  more  violently  together. 

"  And  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  this  is  the  third  time 
tiiat  he  has  run  away,'- 


A  MAN   OF  IRON.  1x7 

There  were  now  two  beads  oi  sweat  on  Ae 
General*s  forehead ;  he  would  have  wiped  it  dry  with 
his  hand,  but  he  could  not,  for  his  &sts  were  firmly 
clenched,  and  it  never  occurred  to  him  to  open 
thfm. 

"  My  dear  Cornelia,"  said  he,  "  if  you  know  where 
this  young  man  now  is,  I  implore  you  to  tell  me 
nothing  about  it  You  know  that  I  ought  not  to 
hear  it" 

**  You  very  soon  will  know  all  about  it ;  the  un- 
happy youth  appeared  in  his  father's  house  on  the 
very  day  when  his  sister  and  her  son  lay  in  their 
coffins." 

"Then  he  has  been  arrested,"  cried  the  Greneral 
qxiickly. 

**  What  makes  you  think  that?  * 

*  Because  his  own  father  would  be  the  first  persoQ 
to  dehver  him  up." 

Cornelia  regarded  her  husband  with  amazement 
*Is  it  not  so,  I   say?"   he  cried  passionately, 

springing  from  his  seat    "  Hetfalusy  has  given  up 

his  fugitive  son,  m  swear  he  has,  even  if  I  had  not 

been  told  it  beforehand." 

**  So  indeed  it  is,"  said  Cornelia  sadly* 

"And  how  came  you  to  know  it  before  it  has 

been  officially  reported  to  me?" 

*  My  xmcle  is  a  magistrate  there,  and  he  told  me. 
He  came  from  thence  in  his  carriage,  while  the 
prisoner  was  being  brought  along  on  foot" 

"They  are  bringing  him  hither — thither  to  me,* 
groaned  the  General  impatiently  and  turning  pale. 


ji8  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

"  They  will  hand  him  over  to  me,  and  I  shall  have 
to  pronounce  judgment  upon  him,** 

How  he  feared,  how  he  shuddered  at  the  thought ! 

"You  could  not  have  told  me  a  worse  tale,** 
resumed  the  General,  turning  to  his  wife,  and 
supporting  her  tender  little  head  against  his  bosom. 
"  That  is  a  sad,  a  very  sad  story." 

"  But  the  end  has  yet  to  come.** 

"Yes,  and  the  saddest  part  of  it  is  that  the  end 
of  it  is  in  my  hands." 

"And  to  my  mind  it  could  not  be  in  better 
hands." 

"How  can  you  say  that?  Is  not  every  member 
oi  the  Hetfalusy  family  my  personal  enemy?  If  I 
could  forget  everything  else,  must  I  not  remember 
that  they  have  insulted  you  ?  Why,  this  very  young 
windbag  actually  insulted  you,  you  my  wife,  at  a 
public  assembly,  and  now  Fate  has  cast  him  at  my 
feet,  him  the  last  scion  of  the  family,  and  I  must  be 
his  judge  and  pronounce  sentence  of  death  upon 
him!  The  whole  world  will  believe  that  I  have 
gladly  taken  advantage  of  this  grievous  opportunity 
of  revenging  myself  in  the  most  bloody,  the  most 
exemplary  manner  upon  my  enemies!  They  will 
fancy  that  I  condemn  the  son  of  my  bitterest  enemy 
to  the  gallows  because  I  am  thirsting  for  his  blood 
And  you  say  it  is  well  that  it  should  be  so !  " 

"  I  said  it  and  I  will  stick  to  it  I  am  quite  coi> 
fident  that  you  will  save  him.** 

"  I  save  him  ?  "  cried  the  General,  opening  wide 
his  blue  eyes  with  amazement ;  "  it  is  impossible" 


A  MAN   OF  IRON.  119 

"I  believe  that  General  V6rtessy,  that  rigorous, 
inflexible  man,  whom  his  admirers  and  his  detractors 
alike  called  '  the  man  of  iron,*  who  has  never  relaxed 
the  rule  of  discipline  to  favour  friend  or  kinsman, 
will  do  everything  in  his  power  to  make  an  exception 
for  once  in  his  life,  and  save  the  son  of  his  enemy 
from  the  rigour  of  the  law.  Oh !  I  know  this  gen- 
tleman 'right  well,  I  am  confident  that  so  he  will 
act" 

"  It  is  impossible,  impossible ;  if  he  were  my  own 
brother  I  would  not  save  him  in  his  tmfortunate 
position." 

"  A  brother  you  could  not  save,  FU  allow ;  but  this 
youth— oh,  yes !  I  am  persuaded  that  you  will  not 
be  satisfied  till  you  have  devised  some  method  of 
saving  this  unfortunate  youth." 

And  in  saying  this,  she  knew  right  well  how  to 
read  the  very  depths  of  the  heart  and  mind  of  the 
man  of  iron. 

The  General  impatiently  quitted  his  wife's  room, 
but  the  moment  he  had  crossed  its  threshold,  there 
was  not  a  trace  of  impatience  to  be  seen  on  his 
face. 

The  orderly  wcis  still  standing  in  the  ante-chamber 
and,  turning  on  his  heels  in  the  direction  of  the 
General,  presented  to  him  the  sealed  dispatch  which 
he  had  thrust  into  his  bosom. 

It  was  the  official  report  of  the  arrest  of  the 
deserter. 

The  General  made  a  sign  to  the  soldier  that  he 
might  depart 


i«o  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

Then  the  General  returned  to  the  room  he  had 
quitted,  spread  out  the  document  in  front  of  hha, 
sat  down  over  it  supported  his  head  in  his  handa^ 
and  for  a  long,  long  time  Sniggled  with  Qppx&sivc 
and  wearying  thoughtai 


CHAPTER  Vm 

THE     POLISH     WOMAH. 

"  Who  is  at  home  here?  "  inquired  a  strong  sQnoroai 
voice  at  the  door  of  the  headsman's  dwelling,  and 
immediately  afterwards  a  shape  huddled  up  in  % 
grey  mantle  passed  through  the  kitchen  door. 

By  the  hearth  were  sitting  Ivan  and  the  woman  of 
the  house,  it  was  a  dark  tempestuous  night  outside ;! 
it  might  have  been  about  ten  o'clock  and  every  door 
was  dosed. 

The  youth  and  the  woman  gazed  stupidly  at  tiae 
stranger  and  said  nothing. 

"Who  is  at  home  here?"  repeated  he,  drawing^ 
nearer  to  the  fire,  in  whose  flickering  light  his 
smooth  handsome  yoimg  face  seemed  transparent 
with  its  sharply  defined  eyebrows,  soft  but  masterful 
lips  and  courageous  eagle  eyes  which  gazed  fixedly 
before  them. 

The  youth  and  the  woman  exchanged  glancea 
Instead  of  answering,  Ivan  feU  to  questioning  t 

**  How  could  anyone  possibly  enter  here?  " 

**I  leaped  over  the  fence,"  replied  the  stranger, 
sitting   down   beside   the   fire   without   the   least 


122  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

ceremony.  "The  door  was  bolted  and  barred; 
twice,  thrice  did  I  knock,  but  nobody  opened  to  me. 
I  was  forced  to  get  in  somehow." 

"  How  about  the  dog?  "  inquired  the  woman  of 
the  house  much  perplexed. 

"  I  didn't  mind  him.  I  know  how  to  talk  to  dogs. 
It  is  a  way  I  have.  There's  a  plag^ey  bad  tempest 
roaring  outside,  the  rain  is  falling  in  torrents.  I 
could  not  wait  outside  any  longer." 

"But  what  do  you  want  here?"  inquired  the 
woman,  looking  into  the  face  of  the  stranger  with 
some  timidity. 

"That  is  just  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you,  my 
dear!  But  first  give  me  a  glass  of  water,  for  I  am 
perishing  with  thirst." 

The  woman  was  involuntarily  constrained  to  obey 
without  more  ado. 

"And  you,  my  friend,  spread  out  my  mantle 
before  the  fixe !  "  said  the  stranger  turning  towards 
Ivan,  and  stripping  from  his  neck  and  shoulders  the 
heavy  mantle  which  was  dripping  with  rain. 

The  youth  and  the  woman  incontinently  obeyed 
his  commands  as  if  they  were  under  a  spelL 

The  mantle  was  removed,  the  slim,  muscular 
figure  of  the  stranger  was  clearly  visible,  it  seemed 
too  soft  for  a  man's.  His  hands  as  they  grasped 
the  beaker  seemed  white  and  delicate. 

"That  is  certainly  a  woman,"  murmured  the 
headsman's  wife  to  Ivan,  staring  suspiciously  at  the 
stranger  from  beneath  her  thick  contracted  bushy 
eyebrows.     Then  approaching  him  and  looking  him 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  itS 

full  in  the  face  she  said:  "My  Dovcy!  It  seems 
to  me  that  you  are  in  no  good  way.  Whom  do  yon 
seek?" 

"  The  master/'  replied  the  stranger  curtly,  resting 
his  elbows  on  the  hearth. 

"  Possibly  you  may  suppose  this  house  to  be  an 
inn  because  it  lies  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  town?  ** 

"  I  think  nothing  of  the  sort,  my  pretty  mistreaa. 
I  know  that  here  dwells  Master  Zuddr,  the  worthy 
ferry-master." 

"  Ferry-master?  " 

"  Yes,  ferry-master !  Does  he  not  transport  men 
from  this  world  to  the  next?  " 

"  How  come  you  to  know  the  master?  ** 

"  I  have  never  seen  him,  yet  I  know  him  well  i<x 
all  that  It  is  not  possible  to  speak  to  him  now 
because  he  is  a-praying.  He  prays  regularly  for  a 
whole  hour  at  a  time,  and  then  it  is  not  well  then  to 
disturb  him.  That  is  why  you  two  are  crouching  in 
the  kitchen  here.  You,  my  pretty  mistress,  arc 
Master  Zudar's  wife,  and  this  young  man  is  his 
'prentice.    I  know  you  very  well  also." 

"  But  who  are  you  yourself  then  ?  Speak !  What 
do  you  want?  "  asked  the  woman  much  puzzled. 

"I  shall  tell  that  to  the  master  himself,  inside 
there,  when  he  has  quite  finished  his  devotions.  It 
is  his  habit  every  night,  before  he  Hes  down,  to 
fire  off  his  gun,  then  I  will  approach  him.  Mean- 
while sit  down  beside  me!  Look  ye,  this  bench 
can  very  well  hold  the  pair  of  us,  let  us  have  a  little 
talk  together." 


K«4  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

The  stranger  thereupon  doffed  his  little  round 
furred  cap  and  his  long  black  trussed-up  locks  fell 
ID  curling  ringlets  about  his  shoulders. 

"Tis  a  woman,  a  woman  indeed!"  whispered 
Ivan  and  the  dame  of  the  house  to  each  other. 

The  latter  now  approached  the  enigmatical  shape 
a'  little  more  boldly,  and  sitting  down  beside  him, 
opened  a  conversation  with  him. 

*  What;  pray,  is  your  business  with  my  husband?  * 

*Come,  come,  my  dear  creature!  You  have  no 
right  to  put  such  questions  to  me.  You  ought 
lather  to  ask  me  whether  I  am  hungry  and  would 
like  some  supper.  You  would  not  have  to  ask  me 
tibat  twice  I  can  assure  you." 

The  woman,  at  this  hint,  arose  sullenly  and  todc 
feora  a  wainscot  cupboard  a  plate  of  hearth  cakes 
which  she  set  before  the  stranger. 

"I  suppose,  sir,  you  don*t  mind  eating  off  the 
lradsriian*s  platter?"  said  she. 

**  Stuff !    What  if  I  am  of  the  same  profession! " 

•Ob,  of  course!  I  can  see  that  from  those  soft 
white  little  hands  of  yours  which  are  not  such  as  the 
hands  of  a  man  ought  to  be." 

But  the  words  were  scarce  out  of  her  mouth  v^ea 
Ae  virago  uttered  a  loud  scream,  for  the  little  white 
paws  she  had  just  tapped  suddenly  pressed  her  huge 
ilcshy  palm  so  vigorously  that  every  bone  in  it 
jpacked. 

"  Satan  take  him ! — ^'tis  a  man,  not  a  doubt  of  it !  * 
whispered  the  woman  to  Ivan.  "He  has  a  kamdl 
like  an  iron  vice." 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  itS 

The  stranger  had  an  excellent  appetite.  There 
was  absolutely  nothing  at  the  bottom  of  the  platter 
when  he  had  finished  eating, 

"  Pardon!  "  cried  he  at  last,  "  perhaps  L ought  not 
to  have  gobbled  up  everything.  Perchance  this  was 
set  aside  for  someone  who  does  not  happen  to  be  at 
home  just  now." 

"  Oh,  don't  be  uneasy  on  that  score,  we  have  all 
had  our  suppers." 

"But  this  is  not  the  whole  family  I  suppose? 
Have  you  no  children?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  woman,  and  as  she  spoke  she 
durst  not  lift  her  eyes  to  the  stranger's  face.  "I 
Ihave  a  daughter." 

"  Really  your  own  child?  " 

The  woman  looked  hesitatingly  at  thestranjg^er, 
twice  she  attempted  to  speak  and  twice  the  wbrdi 
seemed  to  stick  in  her  throat 

"  Yes,  my  own  child,"  she  said  at  last 

"  And  have  you  no  other  'prentice  but  this  brie, 
Dame  Zudar?" 

"No,  why  should  I ?•* 

**  And  are  you  two  able  to  carry  on  the  business? 
!— for  I  suppose  there  are  all  sorts  of  things  to  be 
done?" 

"  Good  heart  alive !  The  less  you  say  abotit  the 
headsman's  trade  the  better." 

"But  why  should  I  not  talk  about  it?  It  ia  a 
regular  profession,  is  it  not,  like  any  other?  And 
just  as  respectable  too,  eh?  Nay,  it  is  more  profit- 
able than   most   trades,  because   there  "is  less  6f 


U6  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

competition  in  it  Now,  as  for  me,  I  have  a  perfect 
passion  for  it  Why,  the  only  reason  why  I  am 
here  is  to  come  to  some  arrangement  with  Master 
Zuddr.  I  want  to  buy  of  him,  my  pretty  dame^ 
the  business  which  you  loathe  so  much." 

The  headsman's  wife  regarded  the  stranger  with 
eyes  full  of  doubt  and  astonishment 

"You  are  a  very  young  man  for  the  business," 
said  she  suspiciously. 

"Oh,  as  for  that,  my  dear,  pray  don't  imagine 
that  I  am  going  to  put  up  with  all  the  disagreeables 
of  the  profession  for  the  fun  of  the  thing.  I  meaui 
to  have  lots  of  help  I  can  tell  you.  I  shall  live  in 
town  and  frequent  the  best  taverns  and  coffee 
houses.  I  shall  live  like  a  gentleman  and  nobody 
will  know  who  I  am.  I  shall  only  appear  on  the 
scene  officially  when  an  execution  worthy  of  my 
skill  awaits  me — ^a  nice  beheading  or  something  of 
that  scxtj  you  know.  Oh!  I  shall  have  a  fine  time 
of  it  I  can  tell  you." 

Dame  Zudar  felt  a  shudder  run  all  down  her 
back.     She  durst  not  look  again  at  the  strsmger. 

"  Tt  is  a  pity  you  have  not  more  than  one  'prentice 
now.  It  looks  as  if  you  had  very  much  neglected 
the  business.  I  am  annoyed  at  that  It  will  be 
difficult  to  give  it  a  fresh  start  Had  you  not  more 
than  one  apprentice  a  Httle  time  ago?  ** 

"Yes,  there  used  to  be  another,"  stammered 
Dame  Z^ddr  involuntarily. 

"Then  why  did  you  pack  him  off?"  inquired 
die  unknown,  picking  from  the  fire  with  his  delicate 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  127 

index-fcnger  a  burning  ember,  tossing  it  lightly  oa 
to  his  soft  palm,  and  thence  chucking  it  adroitly  into 
the  bowl  of  his  Httle  pipe. 

The  woman  and  Ivan  exchanged  a  look  as  if 
deliberating  together  what  answer  they  should  give, 
and  then  the  woman  hastily  repUed : 

"  He  went  away  of  his  own  accord ;  the  busineaa 
is  a  pretty  one,  but  he  got  disgusted  with  it" 

**  Oh — ^ho !  what  a  rum  'un  the  fellow  must  have 
been.     And  has  he  a  better  time  of  it  now?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  the  virago  defiantly.  "  It 
is  not  my  business  to  find  out  what  has  become  of 
my  discharged  apprentices.  He  got  sick  of  this 
trade  and  took  to  another — that  is  the  whole  thing." 

"  You  cire  quite  right,  my  pretty  dame,  not  every- 
one is  fit  for  this  business.  A  man  must  have  a 
natural  liking  for  it  I,  for  instance,  would  never 
take  as  an  apprentice  a  man  who  had  not  spent 
some  time  in  a  dungeon,  or  cooled  his  heels  in  jail 
two  or  three  times  running  in  five  or  six  years,  for 
all  the  others  are  for  ever  wishing  themselves  back 
in  polite  society,  and  want  to  live  in  town.  And 
then,  too,  they  are  always  sighing  and  groaning 
and  trying  to  make  out  that  they  are  too  good  for 
the  business.  I  don't  like  such  people  myself. 
Those  who  are  likely  to  excel  in  this  business  show 
their  teeth  betimes.  Those  children  who  put  out  the 
eyes  of  birds,  nail  bats  to  bam  doors,  and  love 
to  shoot  at  little  dogs,  those  are  the  sort  of  fellows 
from  which  apt  pupils  can  be  trained." 

**  That  is  quite  true.    Why  you,  yourself,  must  be 


Ka8  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

the  son  of  a  headsman,  or  else  you  would  not  know 
all  the  conditions  of  the  trade  so  well" 

"  YouVe  hit  it,  that  is  just  what  I  am.  My  father 
was  an  executioner  and  my  grandfather  before  hin^ 
the  business  has  steadily  descended  from  father  to 
son. 

**  Where  do  you  live  then?  " 

"  In  Poland.    Rochow  is  where  my  father  dwells. 
You  must  have  guessed  already  from  my  accent  that 
I  was  a  Pole." 
"  *  Yes,  and  from  your  face  too." 

*  My  brother  and  I  divided  otur  heritage  between 
US.  He  got  the  Rochow  business  and  paid  me  out 
in  cash  that  I  might  set  up  for  myself  elsewhere. 
I  heard  that  the  executioner  of  H^tfalu  was  getting 
sick  of  his  office;,  for  of  course  he  is  not  growing 
younger,  is  he?  Come,  now!  you  silly  little  thing, 
you  must  not  be  angry  with  mc  for  sajnmg  that! 
You  know  very  well  that  your  husband  is  an  old 
man,  and  there  are  lots  of  old  men  who  have  pretty 
young  wives.  There  is  no  g^eat  harm  in  that  I 
only  asked  you  whether  he  was  old,  because  in  that 
case  he  would  be  more  likely  to  seek  for  repose." 

"  Yes,  young  sir,  my  husband  loathes  the  business 
with  all  his  souL" 

**  But  there's  a  great  deal  of  fun  in  it  too^  if  only 
you  look  at  it  properly.  I  have  often  gone  to 
Lemberg  togged  up  like  a  swell,  with  a  fine  jewfelled 
pin  in  my  scarf,  a  gold  chain  and  a  little  whale- 
bone stick  in  my  hand  I  have  turned  the  heads 
<oi  two  or  three  hne  ladies  and  insinuated  myself 


THE   POLISH   WOMAN.  129 

into  the  best  society — ^and  what  a  joke  it  was  when 
they  found  out  who  I  really  was.  How  pale  they  all 
went,  and  how  their  hair  stood  on  end.  Ha,  ha, 
ha!" 

"But  didn't  they  make  you  pay  for  it  after- 
wards ?  " 

"  Well,  once  I  was  called  out  by  a  young  cadet 
Officers  of  higher  rank  thought  it  beneath  their 
dignity  to  fight  with  me,  the  utmost  they  did  was 
to  pitch  me  out  of  the  window.  The  lad  who 
challenged  me  was  a  Hungarian,  and  I  promised  to 
appear  at  the  rendezvous.  I  am  afraid,  however, 
that  he  waited  for  me  a  very  long  time.  I  like  to 
shed  blood,  but  only  when  I  run  no  risk  myself." 

All  three  laughed  heartily  at  this  witticism. 

*  But  listen  to  the  sequel  of  my  story.  My  father 
has  an  amiable  whim  of  his  own — ^he  always  prefers 
to  have  deserters  from  the  army  as  his  assistants. 
He  is  well  aware  that  men  of  that  kidney  have 
practically  renounced  the  world.  Now  who  do  you 
think  rushed  into  his  house  one  evening  all  ragged 
and  travel-stained?  Why  the  very  soldier-youngster 
who  had  wanted  to  fight  a  duel  with  me!  To 
avenge  his  sweethecirt  he  had  shot  his  captain  and 
bad  to  make  a  bolt  of  it" 

The  woman  and  Ivan  involuntarily  lodced  at  each 
other  with  terror. 

**  You  may  imagine  how  I  laughed  the  poor  youth 
out  of  countenance  when  I  recognised  him  Every 
time  I  met  him  I  used  to  say  to  him :  *  Well,  what 
do  you  say  to  our  fighting  our  duel  now?*    He 

I 


I30  THE   DAY   OF   WRATH. 

could  not  stand  such  heckling  long.  On  the  third 
day  he  skedaddled,  and  I  don't  know  what  became 
of  the  poor  fellow.  I  have  little  doubt,  howerer, 
that  since  then  he  has  been  shot  dead" 

"If  they  have  not  done  it  yet  it  won't  be  very 
long  before  they  do,"  observed  Ivan. 

"Hush!" — ^hissed  the  woman  with  a  warning 
gesture. 

The  unknown  did  not  seem,  however,  to  have 
noticed  this  little  piece  of  by-play. 

At  that  moment  the  report  of  a  gun  was 
heeird  from  the  headsman's  window.  At  night  he 
xised  reguleirly  to  discharge  his  firearms  and  load 
them  again  immediately  afterwards.  He  was  afraid 
that  someone  might  have  got  at  them  in  the  course 
of  the  day  and  either  extracted  the  bullets  or 
damped  the  powder.  He  did  not  feel  himself  safe 
in  his  own  house,  and  always  locked  the  door  of 
his  room  before  he  lay  down  to  sleep. 

"  Now  you  will  be  able  to  have  a  talk  with  him 
if  you  like,"  said  the  virago.  "  The  girl  will  come 
down  presently,  as  usual,  to  fetch  him  his  water  for 
the  night,  you  can  let  her  know  that  you  are  here 
and  want  to  speak  to  him." 

Shortly  afterwards  the  door  opened  and,  with  a 
lighted  taper  in  one  hand  and  a  ewer  in  the  other, 
the  moon-pale  little  maid  entered  the  room.  She 
came  very  quietiy,  as  if  afraid  of  making  the 
slightest  noise.  Her  beautiful  blonde  locks  had 
been  unloosed,  for  it  was  bedtime,  and  strayed 
freely  over  her  smooth  snow-white  shoulders,  her 


THE   POLISH   WOMAN.  131 

tiny  bare  feet  seemed  to  kiss  rather  than  touch  the 
ground 

The  stranger  gazed  at  the  gentle  creature  with 
rapt  delight  She  did  not  appear  to  notice  him  in 
the  semi-darkness,  as  she  glided  past  him  through 
the  vestibule  on  her  way  to  the  well 

"  Is  that  your  own  child,  my  fair  dame?  "  asked 
the  unknown,  flashing  his  eagle  eyes  full  upon  the 
woman 

"  Yes,  my  own  child !  ** 

"  How  fair  she  is,  and  how  pale !  * 

The  woman  laughed 

"  While  I  am  so  brbwn  and  ruddy,  eh?  " 

And  again  she  laughed  aloud 

The  fax:e  of  the  imknown  blushed  deeply.  One 
could  have  sworn  it  was  a  woman.  It  was  the  blush 
of  shame  that  covered  his  face. 

In  a  few  moments  the  child  returned  with  the 
filled  ewer  in  her  hands. 

"  Come  hither,  my  little  girl  1 "  said  the  stranger, 
m  a  tender,  affectionate  voice. 

The  child  started  violently. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed ! "  growled  the  virago. 
"  Don't  you  heeu:  that  this  gentleman  wants  to  speak 
to  you?  Are  you  afraid  he  will  bite  your  nose 
off?" 

And  with  these  words  she  seized  the  child's  hand 
roughly  and  pushed  her  towards  the  stranger. 

The  stranger  softly  patted  the  child's  little  head 

"  Don't  be  afraid  of  me,  my  little  girl !  You  have 
no  reason  to  fear  me.    What  is  your  name?  ** 


I5«  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

**  Betsey !  "  replied  the  virago. 

*  Ah,  why  Betsey  ?  Such  a  coarse,  common  name 
for  such  a  tender  child!  I  would  call  her  Elisc, 
that  is  far  prettier.  Besides,  the  two  names  mean 
one  and  the  same  thing." 

"Nay,  nay,  you  will  spoil  the  child,  sir.  As  if 
she  was  not  spoilt  enough  by  her  father  already. 
Peasant  folks  call  their  daughters  Betsey  or  Polly ; 
Elise  and  Lisetta  are  the  names  of  gentlefolks* 
children.  You  must  not  listen  to  such  nonsense, 
child;  but  go  and  tell  your  father  that  there  is  a 
gentleman  here  from  Poland  who  wants  to  speak 
to  him  immediately  before  he  lies  f^own." 

The  child  timidly  withdrew  her  little  hand  from 
the  stranger's,  who  seemed  very  disinclined  to  let 
it  go,  and  hastened  to  her  father's  room. 

The  stranger  thereupon  tidied  up  his  clothing, 
smoothed  back  his  hair  on  both  sides  of  his  fore- 
head, thereby  giving  to  his  features  a  gentle  amiable 
expression,  and  softly  tapped  at  the  headsman's 
door. 

"  Come  in ! "  resoimded  a  deep  melancholy  voice 
from  within. 

The  unknown  youth  entered  and  carefully  closed 
the  door  behind  him 

The  moment  he  was  well  within  the  room,  the 
smile  of  frivolous  braggadocio  he  had  lately 
assumed  entirely  disappeared  from  his  face;  the 
defiantly  thrown  back  head  bent  meekly  down;  a 
look  of  devout  inspiration  was  visible  on  the  thin 
lips  and  in  the  veiled  eyes ;  the  whole  figure  of  the 


THE   POLISH   WOMAN.  133 

man  seemed  to  have  g^own  smaller,  the  shoulders 
contracted,  the  breast  receded;  he  had  now  the 
air  of  a  g^cious  and  benignant  missionary. 

And  a  benignant  missionary  indeed  it  was  who 
now  stood  face  to  face  with  the  headsman. 

The  herculean  figure  of  the  headsman  arose 
slowly  and  tremulously,  and  while  his  hand  with 
furtive  anxiety  sought  the  hand  of  the  little  girl,  he 
asked  the  stranger  in  a  scarcely  audible  voice  what 
he  required  of  him.  Perchance  the  latter  did  not 
catch  what  he  said,  he  spoke  so  low. 

"  Peace  and  blessing  be  upon  this  house !  "  said 
the  unknown  in  a  voice  full  of  tender  unction. 

"  Amen,  amen !  "  the  headsman  hastened  to  reply. 

"  Heaven's  blessing  descend  upon  thy  heart,  my 
son ! "  said  the  youth  to  the  old  man  raising  his 
hand  in  blessing. 

"  He  is  a  pastor,  a  priest,"  said  the  headsman  to 
himself,  "  he  has  all  the  appearance  of  it" 

Peter  Zudar  stooped  down  towards  the  youth's 
hand  and  kissed  it  He  durst  not  touch  it  with  his 
own  hand  but  with  his  lips  only. 

"A  priest  in  my  house,  forsooth!  My  child! 
take  the  gentleman  by  the  hand  and  lead  him  to 
the  arm-chair,  make  him  sit  down !  Thy  hands  are 
clean,  they  may  touch  him.  Oh !  a  man  of  God  in 
my  house!     I  never  dared  to  hope  so  much." 

"I  come  from  afar,"  said  the  unknown  youth, 
sitting  down  in  the  arm-chair  provided  for  him,  while 
the  old  executioner  stood  before  him  bare-headed, 
with  his   large   muscular   arms   folded   across   his 


3134  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

bosom.  The  little  girl  woirnd  her  hands  round  his 
aim  and  stood  beside  him. 

**I  come  from  afar,  I  say.  I  do  not  belong  to 
your  nation,  though  I  imderstand  your  language 
well  enough  to  be  able  to  converse  in  it  intelligibly. 
In  olden  times  the  Apostles  of  our  Holy  Faith 
received  direct  from  Heaven  the  gift  of  tongues, 
we,  their  unworthy  successors,  must,  with  great 
labour  and  weariness,  acquire  the  languages  of  those 
to  whom  we  have  to  preach  the  Gospel  I  am  the 
member  of  an  English  religious  society  whose 
mission  it  is  to  seek  out  those  who  are  suffering,  in 
whatever  rank  of  life  they  may  be,  and  endeavour 
to  administer  to  them,  so  far  as  we  are  able,  those 
divine  consolations  which  God  so  freely  distributes 
to  the  broken-hearted.  We  have  our  special 
missionaries  for  every  section  of  humanity,  and  we 
send  them  forth  continually  to  minister  to  their 
sufferings,  and  bring  them  peace  and  healing. 
Some  of  us  are  sent  to  the  palaces  of  the  mighty, 
others  to  the  hovels  of  the  poor.  For  everyone  on 
earth  has  his  own  particular  sorrow,  and  everyone 
finds  his  own  sorrow  very  hard  to  bear.  Some  of 
us  have  chosen  the  dungeons  and  jails  as  our  spheres 
of  consolation,  others  prefer  to  comfort  the  secret 
woes  of  family  life,  others  again  visit  the  needy 
masses  of  the  work-people.  To  me  has  been 
assigned  the  task  of  ministering  to  those  tenx)rs 
.of  evil  doers,  the  public  executioners." 

At  these  words  the  youth  looked  steadily  at  the 
face  of  the  man,  who  was  standing  there  before  hiix^ 
with  downcast  eyes  and  quivering  lipsw 


THE   POLISH   WOMAN.  iss 

••  For  the  last  nine  years  I  have  been  going  about 
in  this  strange  world  of  mine,"  continued  the  youth. 
"I  have  Icamt  something  of  the  deepest  wounds 
and  of  the  sublimest  woe.  All  the  suffering  in  this 
depcirtment  of  sorrow  is  very  much  alike.  Some 
can  hide  their  woimds  better  than  others — ^that  is 
the  sole  difference.  There  are  amongst  these  heads- 
men cold  impenetrable  natures,  hearts  closed  against 
the  world,  whom  it  is  very  difficult  to  get  at  And 
then  agciin  there  are  devil-may-care,  extravagant, 
passionate  dispositions  who  fancy  they  can  find 
oblivion  in  wine,  excitement,  and  other  external 
delights.  And  then,  too,  there  are  defiant,  haughty 
souls,  who  mock  and  jeer  at  those  things  which 
ordinary  people  are  afraid  of — ^but  at  the  bottom  of 
all  their  hearts  it  is  the  same  worm  that  is  ever 
gnaw-gnawing.  Some  of  them  die  young,  others 
grow  grey,  and  have  a  late  old  age  before  thenx 
And  it  is  the  selfsame  worm  which  kills  the  one  and 
will  not  let  the  other  die.  I  have  known  among 
them  men  who,  drink  as  they  would,  could  never  get 
drunk.  I  have  known  others  who  loathed  the  sight 
of  wine  and  yet  have  been  haunted  by  phantoms  in 
broad  daylight  The  evil  was  always  one  and  the 
same.  Yes,  and  the  mercy  of  God  is  always  one 
and  the  same  likewise." 

"  God's  mercy  is  indeed  over  all ! "  stammered 
the  headsman. 

"And  if  this  endless  mercy  did  not  cover  the 
earth  what  could  defend  all  living  beings  from 
judgment?    If  the  Lord  were  one  day  to  proclaim? 


iSfi  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

*  Let  Justice  prevail  in  the  world  instead  of  Mercy ! ' 
must  not  we  all  be  instantly  consumed  by  tlw;  divine 
vengeance?  The  Lord  does  not  look  at  the  out- 
ward appearance  of  men  but  at  their  hearts.  He 
judges  him  who  charitably  distributes  alms  at  the 
church  door  to  make  up  for  the  secret  sins  that  he 
has  carefully  concealed  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart, 
and  raises  once  more  the  broken-hearted  sinner  who 
has  fallen  beneath  the  stress  of  temptation." 

The  headsman  slowly  sank  down  upon  his  knees 
before  the  chair  of  the  unknown,  and  rested  his 
folded  arms  against  it 

"What  are  we  after  all?  Impotent  tools  in  the 
hands  of  all  creative  Power.  Greater  in  the  eyes 
of  God  is  humble  weakness  than  haughty  strength ; 
dearer  to  Him  is  the  repentant  sinner  than  the 
man  who  boasts  of  his  virtues.  All  that  is  power 
is  His  gift,  and  His  gift  must  needs  return  to  Him 
again.  Streng^  will  turn  to  dust,  merit  will  become 
but  as  an  empty  sound,  God's  mercy  alone  will 
endure  for  ever.  Heaven  is  always  open  to  him 
who  seeks  it" 

The  youth  tenderly  stroked  the  old  man's  hands 
whilst  he  tried,  tremulously,  to  draw  them  away. 

"  Oh,  sir,  touch  not  my  hands !  " 

The  youth  seized  one  of  the  executioner's  hands 
by  force  and  drew  it  towards  him,  looking  as  he  did 
so,  now  at  the  old  man's  hand  and  now  at  his  face 
Then  with  his  delicate  index-finger  he  pointed  at 
the  headsman's  forehead. 

*  I  see  here  a  whole  network  of  wrinklesi"  said 


THE   POLISH   WOMAN.  137 

he,  "and  this  cross  of  ill-omen  here  betokens  the 
anguish  of  a  heavy  heart  Thy  hand  trembles  in 
mine  because  it  feels  upon  it  spots  of  innocent 
blood." 

"  True,  true ! "  groaned  the  strong  man,  hiding 
his  face  in  his  hands. 

"Thou  hast  executed  a  death  sentence  upon  a 
man  whose  innocence  shortly  afterwards  became  as 
clear  as  noonday." 

"  So  it  is.  You  can  read  right  into  my  heart 
It  is  even  as  you  say." 

"This  thought  haunts  thy  mind  continually  and 
the  mark  of  it  is  on  thy  forehead." 

And  at  that  moment  could  be  plainly  seen  on 
the  old  man's  forehead  the  deep  cruciform  mark 
of  the  intersecting  furrows. 

The  youth  laid  his  fresh  cold  hand  on  the  man's 
forehead. 

"  Who  can  tell  why  the  Lord  hath  ordered  it  so? 
Who  can  tell  whether  the  blindly  executed  convict 
did  not  deserve  his  punishment  after  all?  Who 
knows  whether  he  was  not  worse  at  heart  than  he 
who  actually  committed  the  bloody  deed?  What  if 
he  wished  his  father's  death,  and  therefore  was 
guiltier  than  he  who  carried  out  that  wish?  A  wise 
monarch  in  the  East  once  himg  up  twelve  robbers 
by  the  roadside,  and  placed  watchers  there  at  night 
to  guard  the  bodies.  While  the  watchers  slept,  the 
comrades  of  the  robbers  cut  down  the  body  of  their 
leader  and  made  off  with  it  The  awakened 
watchers,  full  of  the  fear  of  punishment,  hung  up 


138  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

a  wayfaring  peasant  in  the  place  of  the  missing 
body.  An  innocent  man! — ^And  behold  when  they 
searched  the  baggage  of  the  peasants  mule  they 
found  the  bloody  limbs  of  a  freshly  murdered 
traveller!  *Twas  the  judgment  of  God.  But  sup- 
pose that  the  youth  whom  thou  didst  execute  was 
really  innocent?  Who  shall  dare  to  say,  even  then, 
that  Heaven  distributes  death  by  way  of  punish- 
ment? What  if  it  were  sent  as  a  favour,  as  a 
reward? — Once,  in  the  olden  times,  a  God-fearing 
couple  prayed  Heaven  to  bestow  its  greatest  reward 
upon  their  twin  sons  for  their  filial  piety,  and  next 
morning  they  were  found  dead. — ^Who  knows  from 
what  calcunity  Heaven  may  have  saved  him  by 
deahng  him  that  blow?  Might  he  not  have  grown 
base  and  vile  had  he  been  spared?  Might  he  not 
have  been  plunged  in  misery  and  ruin?  Might  he 
not  have  become  a  murderer  or  a  suicide?  Might 
he  not  ultimately  have  come  to  die  on  the  selfsame 
scaffold,  aye,  and  deserved  it  too  ?  Only  He  is  able 
to  answer  all  these  questions  before  Whom  the 
future  lies  clear  and  open.  We  can  only  see 
through  a  glass  darkly ;  we  do  not  even  know  when 
we  ought  to  laugh  or  when  we  ought  to  weep." 

The  youth  removed  his  hand  from  the  old  man's 
forehead,  and,  lo!  that  ugly  wrinkle  had  been 
smoothed  away,  and  the  headsman  could  raise  aloft 
eyes  full  of  comfort,  and  folding  his  hands  across  his 
huge  heaving  breast,  he  began  to  stammer  softly : 
"Our  Father    ...     !" 

When  he  had  pronounced   the   "Amenl"   the 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  139 

unknown  youth  raised  him  tenderly  from  his  knees, 
and  the  pale  little  girl  embraced  the  old  man's  arm 
and  leaned  her  head  against  it 

"  Hast  thou  not  always  had  about  thee  here 
Heaven's  messenger  of  mercy?"  said  the  youth, 
pointing  to  the  fair  child  "  Has  not  Heaven  sent 
her  to  thee  without  any  effort  or  foreknowledge  on 
thy  part,  so  that  even  to  this  day  thou  canst  not  tell 
from  whence  she  came?  " 

The  man  tapped  his  bosom : 

**  Sir,"  said  he,  "  read  into  my  heart  You  know 
cvciything." 

The  stranger  thereupon  turned  to  the  little  girl 
and  addressed  her  in  a  gentle  tone  which  instantly 
inspired  confidence. 

"  My  good  little  child,  go  downstairs  and  tell  them 
to  put  my  horse,  which  I  have  left  standing  outside 
the  gate,  under  cover,  lest  it  be  drenched  by  the 
storm." 

"I  myself  will  lead  it  to  the  stable  and  give  it 
food  and  water." 

"  Thank  you,  my  little  girL" 

Little  Elise  sought  for  something  in  the  ward- 
robe, and,  concealing  it  in  her  apron,  went  out 

The  stranger  looked  after  her  till  she  had  closed 
the  door  behind  her.  A  solemn  silence  then  pre- 
vailed in  the  room,  the  youth  looked  at  the  old  man 
in  silence  as  if  he  expected  him  to  speak. 

In  a  short  time  Peter  Zuddr  approached  the 
door  and  opened  it — in  the  kitchen  all  was  now 
dark. 


140  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

"They  are  asleep  now,"  he  muttered,  partly 
speaking  to  himself,  pcirtly  addressing  his  words  to 
the  stranger.  "  The  woman  has  gone  to  rest,  the 
lad  is  with  the  horses,  the  child  will  remain  in  the 
kitchen,  she  has  something  to  do  there  I  know. 
This,  my  good  sir,  is  the  time  for  us  to  talk.  Out- 
side there  is  nought  but  storm  and  darkness,  I  can- 
not let  you  go  further  on  your  way  while  it  is  like 
this." 

It  was  only  after  much  persuasion  that  the  old 
man  consented  to  sit  down  beside  the  youth  and 
began  to  speak. 

"  I  am  an  old  man,  sir,  my  hoary  hair  speaks  the 
truth  I  have  gone  through  a  great  deal  My 
father  also  was  an-  executioner,  and  my  grandfather 
before  him.  I  inherited  '  the  business '  so  to  speak. 
In  my  younger  years  I  was  wild  and  frivolous.  I 
loved  raclcet,  wine,  and  boisterous  mirth  A  sort 
of  heavy  indescribable  load  oppressed  my  heart 
continually,  a  sort  of  blinding  darkness  enveloped 
me  which  I  would  gladly  have  chased  away  had 
I  only  known  how.  This  heavy  mental  oppression, 
this  black  weariness  tortured  me  more  and  more, 
according  as  my  sad  reminiscences  multiplied  with 
my  advancing,  years,  and  I  drank  more  and  more 
wine;  and  plunged  all  the  more  recklessly  into  vile 
debauchery  in  order  that  I  might  not  hear  all  round 
me  those  faint  sighs  cind  moans  which  troubled  and 
terrified  me  most  when  there  was  not  a  sound  in  my 
room,  and  I  was  all  alone.  My  acquaintances  used 
to  laugh  at  me  because  I  sat  all  alone  drinking 


THE   POLISH   WOMAN.  14Z 

silently  till  far  into  the  night,  just  as  they  used  to 
laugh  at  me  afterwards  for  sitting  by  myself  and 
singing  hymns." 

The  fellow  sighed  deeply  and  was  silent  for  a 
time,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  gather  up  again  the 
threads  of  his  scattering  thoughts. 

"  You  may  perhaps  have  noticed  a  woman  outside 
there.  That  is  my  wife.  I  married  because  I 
fancied  that  I  should  thereby  find  rest  for  my  souL 
I  imagined  how  happy  I  should  be  if  I  were  to  have 
a  child.  I  should  then  have  something  to  knit  me 
to  life,  to  the  world  again.  No,  I  said  to  myself, 
he  shall  not  inherit  the  curse  of  my  abhorred  exis- 
tence. I  will  choose  for  him  a  career  in  which  he 
will  be  happy,  honoured,  and  respected.  I  will 
provide  him  with,  a  comfortable  maintenance  and 
have  him  educated  far  from  me  and  my  house.  I 
will  make  a  worthy,  honest,  sensible  man  of  him. 
For  two  years  I  comforted  myself  with  such  visions 
and  was  happy.  My  mind  shook  off  its  horrors 
and  became  bright  and  cheerful  And  then — then  I 
b^an  drinking  heavily  again.  Evil  memories  com- 
menced assailing  me  worse  than  ever,  and  my  fair 
hopes  abandoned  me — ^for  life  and  death,  sir,  are 
both  lodged  in  a  woman's  heart,  and  some  find  the 
one  cind  some  the  other.  Once  more  I  was  visited 
by  that  midnight  sighing,  by  that  speechless  moan- 
ing, by  those  voices  that  terrified  my  solitude  and 
pursued  me  sleeping  and  waking,  and  I  began  to 
drink  and  run  riot  again  once  more." 

The  man  hid  his  drooping  head  in  his  hands. 


I4S  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

Even  now  those  dreadful  memories  weighed  him 
down  when  he  thought  upon  them. 

"Suddenly  I  began  to  be  deaf.  A  continuous 
humming  sounded  in  my  ears  which  kept  me  in  a 
perpetual  whirl.  I  did  not  understand  a  single 
word  unless  I  looked  at  the  lips  of  the  speaker.  I 
never  noticed  anyone  coming  into  my  room  tmtil  I 
suddenly  caught  sight  of  him.  Oh!  deafness  is 
indeed  a  horrible  torture.  The  deaf  man  is  far 
more  completely  shut  off  from  the  world  than  the 
blind.  At  first  I  hid  my  wretchedness  lest  they 
should  make  sport  of  me.  Nobody  is  merciful  to 
the  deaf.  Whenever  two  people  talked  to  each 
other  in  my  presence  I  fancied  they  were  plotting 
against  me.  I  feared  to  go  to  sleep  lest  I  should 
be  murdered  without  hearing  my  door  burst  open. 
And  then,  too,  in  the  night,  in  the  darkness,  in  my 
lonely  deafness,  I  had  an  ear  all  the  keener  for 
those  sighs  and  moans  which  nobody  could  hear  but 
myself.  And  in  vain  I  drank,  in  vain  I  sang 
riotously.  After  every  bumper  of  wine  it  seemed 
to  me  as  if  I  was  plunged  more  and  more  deeply 
into  a  roaring  bottomless  sea,  and  at  last  I  could 
not  even  hear  my  own  howling.  Then  my  soul 
died  away  within  me,  I  cast  myself  despairingly  on 
my  bed,  and  then  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  it 
occurred  to  me  to  pray.  The  only  thing  I  could 
think  of  to  say  was :  *  My  God !  my  God !  *  as  I 
wrung  my  hands,  and  the  tears  ran  down  my  cheeks.** 

And  at  these  words  tears  stood  once  more  in  the 
beadsman's  eyes. 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  14$ 

"That  night  I  slept  quietly,  nothing  disturbed 
me.  Thus  I  slumbered  for  many  hours  like  one 
dead,  and  W2is  only  awakened  at  last  by  a  feeling 
of  moisture  all  over  my  face.  I  had  been  lying  face 
downwards,  and  a  rush  of  blood  had  come  through 
my  nose  and  mouth  and  wetted  my  couch.  I  arose, 
douched  my  face  in  a  large  tub  of  water,  and  felt 
that  my  head  was  very  much  relieved  I  no  longer 
heard  that  roaring  sound  as  of  a  deep  sea  roUir^ 
over  me ;  there  was  no  more  whispering  and  moan- 
ing aroimd  me  ;  but,  instead  of  that,  I  heard  through 
the  deep  stillness  of  the  night  the  crying  of  a  child. 
The  crying  of  a  child  in  my  own  house!  I  fancied 
it  was  but  a  dream-voice — ^for  was  I  not  deaf? — 
and  that  instead  of  a  pursuing,  the  voice  of  an 
enticing  spectre  was  now  sounding  in  my  ear.  But 
again  the  crying  of  a  child  penetrated  to  me  from 
the  room  where  my  wife  usually  slept  What  could 
it  be?  I  walked  thither,  and  lo!  I  could  hear  the 
soft  pattering  of  my  own  footsteps  I  must  walk 
more  softly,  thought  I.  And  I  did  walk  more  softly, 
and  then  I  also  heard  distinctly  the  light  cracking 
of  the  boards  beneath  my  feet  And  through  it  all 
the  weeping  of  that  child  soimded  continuously. 
The  door  was  only  closed  by  a  bolt  I  slipped  it 
softly  aside  so  that  not  a  sound  should  be  heard. 
Softly  I  opened  the  door.  And  behold!  on  the 
table  in  the  middle  of  the  room  was  a  tiny  babe. 
The  night-lamp  flung  a  flickering  flame  across  its 
face,  it  could  not  have  been  more  than  a  couple  of 
months  old.    It  was  wrapped  up  in  fine  swaddling 


144  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

clothes,  a  tiny  embroidered  chemise  covered  its 
little  body,  and  its  wee  round  head  was  covered  by 
a  deep  cap  triramed  with  pearls,  from  underneath 
which  welled  forth  tiny  little  ringlets  like  fine  gold 
thread.  Just  like  those  Httle  painted  angels  of 
whom  you  only  see  the  heads  peeping  out  of  the 
sky." 

The  unknown  smiled  so  sympathetically  at  the 
childish  simile  of  the  old  headsman. 

Then  Peter  Zudar*s  face  again  grew  clouded,  he 
drew  his  chair  closer  to  his  guest's  and  thus  con- 
tinued : 

"My  wife  was  not  in  the  room.  Her  bed  was 
empty  and  I  could  see  through  the  door,  which  she 
had  left  open  behind  her,  that  a  large  fire  was 
flickering  in  the  kitchen.  My  wife  was  busy  with 
something  at  the  hearth  and  with  her  was  her 
mother,  a  sly,  wicked  old  woman,  whom  all  the 
people  hereabouts  look  upon  as  a  witch.  What 
were  they  doing  there  so  late  at  night  I  asked 
myself?  The  younger  womcin  was  holding  a  pan 
over  the  fire  and  the  elder  was  casting  into  it  all 
sorts  of  herbs.  There  was  nothing  to  be  afraid 
of,  and  yet  they  were  speaking  to  each  other  in 
whispers  and  peering  timorously  aroimd.  I  know 
not  how  the  thought  occurred  to  me,  but  I  suddenly 
thrust  into  my  bosom  the  Uttle  suckling  lying  on  the 
table  and  carried  it  off  into  my  own  room.  There 
I  laid  it  down  upon  my  bed  and  put  into  its  hand* 
again  its  plaything  of  Httle  bells  which  it  had 
dropped,  whereupon  it  ceased  to   cry.     Then  I 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  145 

returned  to  watch  and  see  what  the  two  women 
would  do  next  The  contents  of  the  pan  were 
already  frizzling.  Now  and  then  it  boiled  over  into 
the  fire  and  the  flames  shot  up  all  round  it  Then 
the  old  woman  would  skim  it  carefully  with  a  spoon. 
And  all  the  time  they  were  muttering  together: 

"  *  Are  you  sure  nobody  is  awake?  * 

* '  No,  everyone  is  asleep.* 

•  *  How  about  the  old  Knacker? ' 

*  *  He  is  drunk  by  this  time  and  so  deaf  besfdes 
that  he  could  not  even  hear  the  blast  of  a  trumpet' 

"At  last  they  finished  what  they  were  about, 
poured  the  mess  into  a  large  dish,  and  the  pair  of 
them  came  back  again  into  the  room.  And  there 
was  I  standing  in  the  midst  of  it !  It  had  the  effect 
upon  them  of  a  thimderbolt  The  old  woman  let 
fall  the  dish  and  the  yoimg  one  rushed  at  me  like  a 
maniac : 

" '  You  deaf  hog,  you !  what  have  you  done  with 
the  child?' 

" '  Don't  bawl  so  loudly,  my  good  woman,*  I  said. 
*  I  can  hear  you  just  as  well  if  you  speak  softly.* 

" '  What  have  you  done  with  the  child?  * 

"  *  Don't  be  xmeasy  about  it,  it  is  in  a  safe  place.* 

"  *  You  old  fool,  you ;  you  will  bring  the  whole 
lot  of  us  to  ruin.  Do  you  know  what  you  are 
doing?* 

**  *  I  know  this  much,  that  however  you  may  have 
got  hold  of  the  child  it  shall  not  fadl  into  your  hands 
again.  I  will  take  it  and  care  for  it  myself,  and 
whoever  dares  to  come  into  my  room  after  it  shall 

K 


146  THE   DAY    OF   WRATH. 

have  good  cause  to  remember  that  I  am  the  public 
executioner ! ' 

"  And  with  that  I  went  into  my  room  and  locked 
it  behind  me.  The  women  cursed  aloud  and 
hammered  at  my  door,  and  the  old  witch  threatened 
to  imdo  me  in  all  sorts  of  ways ;  but  I  quietly  and 
comfortably  got  out  my  milk-warming  machine  and 
heated  a  mash  of  breadcrumbs  and  milk  over  my 
spirit  lamp.  When  it  was  ready  I  took  the  little 
child  upon  my  lap  and  fed  it  nicely  myself.  Then 
I  made  a  cradle  for  it  out  of  my  coverlet,  which  I 
slimg  upon  a  beam,  and  rocked  it  to  sleep,  and 
when  I  looked  at  it  in  the  morning  it  was  still 
slumbering." 

After  saying  these  words  the  headsman  took  out 
of  a  little  cabinet  a  small  bundle,  carefully  wrapped 
up  in  paper,  and,  unwinding  it  gradually  from  its 
manifold  wrappings,  set  out  its  contents  before  the 
stranger. 

In  the  parcel  was  a  dainty  Httle  child's  smock,  a 
pair  of  socks,  and  a  baby's  cap  trimmed  with  pearls. 
Everyone  of  these  items  was  marked  with  a  red 
"  E." 

"  I  keep  these  things  as  souvenirs,"  he  continued. 
"This  crisp  little  smock,  this  baby's  bonnet  em- 
broidered with  rosebuds  and  forget-me-nots,  are 
more  precious  to  me  than  all  the  treasures  erf 
life,  for  to  them  I  owe  the  soothing  moments  which 
poured  balm  into  my  soul.  It  was  by  the  side  of 
this  child,  sir,  that  I  learnt  to  pray.  Something 
whiq>ered  to  me  that  this  child  was  sent  to  me  from 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  147 

Heaven.  And  so  it  must  have  been.  Nobody- 
tinder  heaven  loves  me  save  she,  and  I  love 
nobody,  nothing  else  in  the  world.  I  have  never 
tried  to  find  out  who  the  child  might  be,  nay,  rather 
I  have  trembled  lest  she  might  one  day  be  dis- 
covered and  demanded  back  from  me.  But  all 
these  years  nobody  has  inquired  after  her.  I  fancy 
she  must  have  had  a  bad  mother  whom  they  told 
she  was  dead,  and  she  was  glad  to  hear  it  Perhaps 
she  even  wished  it  to  be  killed.  Ah !  sir,  there  are 
those  born  outside  the  headsman's  house  who  ought 
to  end  their  Hves  on  the  headsman's  threshold. 
Never  for  one  hour's  time  have  I  quitted  that  child. 
I  taught  her  to  walk,  to  talk,  I  prepared  all  her 
food  for  her,  and  now  she  prepares  mine  for  me.  I 
have  eaten  no  cooked  food  which  her  hand  has  not 
made  ready.  While  she  was  still  but  a  wee  thing 
I  watched  by  her  bed  while  she  slept,  now  she 
watches  over  me  while  I  sleep.  When  I  go  a 
journey  she  comes  with  me,  I  never  leave  her 
behind.  Only  one  thing  troubles  me  when  I  think 
of  her :  What  will  become  of  her  when  I  die?  what 
will  become  of  her  when  she  grows  up?  " 

The  youth  tenderly  pressed  the  old  mzm's  hand, 
land  said  to  him  with  a  voice  betraying  some 
emotioo : 

"  Don't  be  uneasy !  Thou  hast  been  a  good  father 
to  the  child,  if  thou  shouldst  die  I  will  find  a  good 
mother  for  her.  Make  a  note  of  this  name  and 
address:  'Maria  Kamienszka,  Lemberg.*  When- 
ever thou  dost  write  to  the  above  address  on  this 


Z48  THE   DAY    OF   WRATEL 

subject  thou  shalt  receive  an  answer  with  full  infor- 
mation. Nay,  perhaps  thou  mayest  hear  sooner 
from  that  quarter  than  thou  desirest" 

The  old  man  kissed  the  youth's  hand  and  stam- 
mered some  unintelligible  words  of  blessing. 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  little  Eliae 
came  in  with  two  glasses  oi  wine-soup  on  a  platter 
from  the  kitchen. 

She  placed  the  fragrant  steaming  drink  on  the 
table,  spread  beneath  it  a  snow-white  diaper,  and 
with  her  sweet  gracious  voice  invited  the  stranger 
to  partake  thereof,  as  it  would  warm  and  comfort 

The  stranger  gently  stroked  her  sweet  pretty 
lace,  kissed  her  fair  head,  and  touching  glasses  with 
his  host,  emptied  his  own  at  one  manly  gulp. 

*And  right  good  it  is,  my  little  hostess!  It  has 
floade  quite  a  man  of  me." 

The  old  man  needed  fax  more  pressing.  The 
little  girl  had  to  taste  it  first  to  put  him  in  the 
humour  for  it  It  was  quite  clear  that  this  adopted 
father  ran  a  great  risk  of  being  spoiled. 

Peter  Zuddr^s  face  was  now  quite  bright  and 
cheerful 

"  Ah,  sir  I  "  said  he  to  the  stranger,  *  I  have  never 
fdt  before  as  I  feel  now.  My  heart  feels  as  li^t 
as  if  no  load  had  ever  lain  upon  it  I  fed  myself 
a  man.  How  long  will  you  remain  with  mo?  I 
hope  it  will  be  for  a  long  time." 

"It  cannot  be,  my  worthy  fellow,  my  vocation 
•ammons  me  elsewhere.    By  the  way,  hast  thou  angr 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  149 

apprentices  or  assistants  who  require  spiritual  con- 
•olations?" 

Peter  Zuddr*s  face  grew  dark  at  these  words. 

*  I  have  only  one  'prentice,"  said  he  at  last,  *'  and, 
sir,  waste  not  any  words  of  the  Lord  upon  him — 
one  must  not  cast  bread  before  dogs." 

"Hast  thou  no  other?" 

"  Not  long  ago  this  'prentice  of  mine  brought  a 
stranger  to  my  house.  Early  next  morning,  before 
I  could  see  him,  he  escaped  through  the  loft  and 
over  the  fence,  why  or  whither  I  know  not  to  this 
day.     This  was  not  the  first  case  of  the  kind." 

**  Then  my  mission  to  this  house  is  ended,"  said 
the  stranger,  sighing  involimtarily.  "Accept  from 
me  this  little  Prayer  Book  as  a  souvenir ;  as  often  as 
thou  dost  read  it  thou  wilt  find  consolation.  On  its 
cover  is  the  name  of  that  lady  whom  thou  must  not 
foi^et" 

The  old  man  pressed  the  little  boc^  to  his  lips 
and  concealed  it  in  his  coffer. 

**  And  I,  what  shall  I  give,  what  can  I  give  to  you, 
my  spiritual  benefactor,  and,  after  God,  my  regene- 
rator, as  a  token  of  my  gratitude ;  what  can  I  give 
you,  I  say?" 

The  stranger  hastily  replied: 

"  If  I  might  be  so  bold  as  to  ask  for  somethings 
five  me  the  half  of  thy  treasures,  the  little  em- 
broidered bab/s  cap." 

For  a  moment  the  headsman  was  overpowered 
with  astonishment,  then  he  quickly  undid  once  more 
the  httle  bundle  of  clothes^  drew  forth  the  pearl- 


I5D  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

trimmed  cap,  regarded  it  steadily,  and  a  tear  fcH 
from  his  eye  as  he  did  so,  then  he  kissed  it,  and 
handed  it  to  the  stranger  without  a  word. 

"  If  thou  dost  find  it  so  hard  to  part  with  it  I  will 
not  take  it" 

"  Nay,  it  will  be  well  disposed  of,"  whispered  the 
old  man,  and  he  pressed  it  into  the  hand  of  the 
youth,  who  thrust  the  Httle  relic  into  his  bosom. 

"And  now  God  be  with  thee,  and  go  and  lie 
dovjm,  for  it  is  late.  As  for  me,  I  have  a  long 
journey  to  make  before  daybreak. 

The  headsman  would  have  gone  with  him  to  help 
him  to  saddle  his  horse,  but  the  stranger  restrained 

him 

"  I  will  arouse  thy  lad,"  said  he,  "  I  have  a  word 
for  his  ear." 

"  But  the  watdbrdogs  are  vicious." 

"They  will  do  me  no  harm." 

The  stranger  would  not  be  persuaded  On  reach- 
ing the  kitchen  he  wrapped  himself  in  his  mantlev 
and  after  inquiring  whereabouts  near  the  stables 
the  'prentice  usually  slept,  took  a  lighted  lamp  in 
his  hand  and  went  forth  into  the  courtyard. 

The  mastiffs  when  they  beheld  him  slunk  away, 
growling  timidly  and  imeasily,  and  only  began  to 
bark  with  all  their  throats  when  they  found  them- 
selves safely  behind  the  house.  Those  strange  eyes 
had  the  effect  of  a  spell  on  man  and  beast  Mean- 
while the  headsman  could  be  heard  singing  within 
his  room  the  hymn: 

"  Ere  slumber  fall  upon  mine  eyes." 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  151 

The  youth  hastened  towards  the  night-quarteri 
6t  the  headsman's  'prentice.  On  the  way  thither 
he  encountered  the  young  woman.  He  pinched  her 
ear  and  tapped  her  on  the  shoulder. 

**  Get  along  with  yoo,  you  naughty  boy ! "  said 
she. 

And  then  the  virago  sauntered  back  into  the 
kitchen,  leaving  her  guest  to  go  where  he  liked 

His  quest  was  an  easy  one  now.  He  had  only  to 
proceed  in  the  direction  from  whence  the  woman 
had  come.     Ivan  feigned  to  be  asleep. 

"Hie!  my  little  brother!  up!  up!**  cried  the 
sfenger,  and  tugged  at  the  fellow's  hair  till  he 
opened  his  eyes  in  terror. 

"Well!  what's  the  row?  what  do  you  want  with 
me?^ 

**  What  do  I  want?  I'll  very  soon  let  you  know, 
yoo  rascal,  get  up,  I  say !  " 

Ivan  made  no  very  great  hciste  to  obqr. 

The  stranger  wasted  no  more  words  upon  him 
but  began  buffeting  him  right  and  left,  till  his  head 
waggled  on  his  shoulders. 

Full  of  fury  Ivan  started  up  from  his  couch  and 
fell  upon  his  tormentor ;  but  the  latter,  with  serpen- 
tine agility,  clutched  the  fellow's  throat  tighdy  with 
his  right  hand  and  pressed  his  head  against  the  wall, 
while  with  his  left  he  held  a  large  pistol  in  front  of 
his  nose. 

"  You  dare  to  move,  you  rogues  that's  all,  and  III 
spread  you  out  over  the  wail  like  a  painted 
picture." 


X5t  THE   DAY   OF   WRATH. 

The  lad  was  awed  by  the  unexpected  strength 
of  that  fist  and  the  threatening  proximity  of  the 
pistol. 

"  But,  sir,  what  in  heaven's  name  have  I  done?  " 
he  babbled.  "  Who  are  you,  and  what  do  you  want 
of  me?" 

"Who  am  I,  eh?  I  am  a  police-sergeant,  you 
rascal.  I  am  pursuing  a  deserter,  whom  you  have 
concealed.  Come,  speak,  what  have  you  done  with 
him?" 

Ivan  had  already  begun  to  recover  himself  a  little. 

"  ril  tell  you  the  truth,  I  will  indeed,  only  let  me 
ga  It  is  true  that  I  enticed  a  deserter  hither,  but 
it  was  not  to  conceal  him." 

"You  did  not  bring  him  hither  to  conceal  him, 
eh?  You  lie,  you  dog.  Another  falsehood,  and  Til 
tie  you  to  my  horse's  tail  and  drag  you  all  the  way 
to  Dukla.     What  did  you  do  with  him?  " 

"  ni  tell  you  everything,  Mr.  Sergeant,  I  am  a 
man  of  my  word.  It  is  true  that  I  enticed  a  yoimg 
gentleman  here,  at  one  time  I  was  his  lackey. 
Later  on  we  became  soldiers  together.  I  was 
subsequently  discharged  because  I  was  growing 
blind.  I  am  speaking  the  truth,  I  was  blind  then. 
The  young  man  had  confidence  in  me,  and  one 
day,  when  he  saw  me  in  the  street  at  Dukla,  he 
implored  me  to  hide  him." 

"  What  were  you  doing  in  Galicia?  " 

"  My  master  sent  me  to  buy  horses,  but  I  could 
not  get  any  fit  for  us.  I  am  speaking  the  truth,  I 
assure  you  I  am." 


THE   POLISH   WOMAN.  153 

**  Do  you  know  why  that  man  deserted?  *' 

*  Yes,  he  shot  his  captain  because  of  a  woman.* 

"  Did  you  hear  the  woman's  name?  *' 

"  I  heard  it,  but  I  have  forgotten  it" 

"  You  lie.    You  know  it  now.    Come,  out  with  it !  * 

"I'll  say  it  then— Oh!  my  throat!— the  Countess 

Kamienszka," 
"  Did  you  hear  it  from  him?  ** 
"  No,  it  is  my  own  idea,  for  he  wrote  her  a  letter 

while  about  to  fly  and  sent  me  to  the  post  with  it, 

that  is  what  put  them  on  his  track,  I  should  think.*' 
"  That  is  none  of  your  business,  where  is  the  man 

now?     Don't  lie!     I  shall  know  if  you  do,  and  in 

that  case  I  will  make  an  end  of  you  at  once." 
"He  is  safe  enough  now,  Mr.  Officer,  I  assure 

you.     He  escaped  before  daybreak,  but  I  denounced 

him,  and  he  was  arrested  at  the  house  of  his  own 

father." 

The  stranger  dashed  the  fellow's  head  furiously 

against  the  wall,  then  flung  him  on  the  floor  and 

kicked  him. 

"You  denounced  him,  eh?     Oh!  you  detestable 

dog!" 

"  But  what  is  the  matter,  sir?     Why  do  you  strike 

me  again  ?     Surely  I  did  right  ?    I  had  him  arrested, 

and   they   locked   him  up.     He   is   in   the   pillory 

already,  I  daresay.     What  harm  have  I  done?  " 
The  stranger  made  an  effort  to  master  his  passion^ 

and,  controUing  his  rage,  answered  coldly, 

"  What  harm  have  you  done,  you  fool !    Haven't 

you  made  me  take  all  my  trouble  in  vain,  and  done 


154  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

me  out  of  the  promised  reward  to  those  who  ferret 
otit  and  hand  over  deserters.  You  dare  to  meddle 
with  my  afiFairs  again,  that's  all !  *' 

Gnashing  his  teeth,  he  kept  his  pistol  grasped 
finnly  in  his  hand ;  he  would  very  much  have  liked 
to  have  beaten  the  fellow's  shaggy  poll  about  with 
the  butt  end  of  it 

**  Go  and  saddle  my  horse  this  instant ! " 

Ivan  was  only  too  delighted  to  get  clear  of  the 
narrow  little  room  where  he  was  so  close  to  this 
dangerous  visitor's  muscular  fists,  and  went  to  saddle 
the  horse.  While  so  employed,  he  could  not  help 
reflecting  that  the  nag  was  just  a  trifle  too  good  to 
be  bestridden  by  a  secret  police-agent 

The  stranger  did  not  wait  till  he  was  ready,  but 
harried  after  him.  Then  he  quickly  moimted  his 
horse,  and  presented  something  to  Ivan. 

"Here,  take  that!" 

The  fellow  dodged  his  head,  thinking  he  was 
about  to  get  another  buflfet  Then  the  stranger 
flung  a  thaler  at  his  feet 

"Take  that,  you  dog,  for  your  trouble.  And 
now  open  the  gate !  " 

The  horse  splashed  the  'prentice's  eyes  and  mouth 
foil  of  mud  as  the  stranger  galloped  away. 

At  the  sound  of  the  rapidly  retreating  hoofs  the 
headsman  thought  to  himself :  "  That  was  Heaven's 
own  gracious  messenger."  The  headsman's  young 
wife,  however,  sighed :  "  Ah  I  that  was  a  gay  gentle- 
man." But  the  'prentice  growled  furiously  r  *  It  was 
old  Nick  himself/* 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  1$$ 

And  with  that  he  picked  up  the  thaler,  wiped  the 
mud  off  it,  put  it  in  his  pocket,  and  then  turned 
furiously  upon  the  watch-dog  and  kicked  out  one 
of  its  teeth. 

"  Take  that  for  not  barking! "  cried  he: 


The  whole  house  of  Hetfdu  was  still  in  mourn- 
ing. The  doctor  from  town  looked  in  every  day. 
There  were  two  invalids  to  be  seen  to.  Young 
Szephalmi  was  able  indeed  to  go  about,  but  he  was 
like  a  worm-eaten  plant,  there  seemed  to  be  but 
httle  life  within  him.  Old  Hetfalusy,  on  the  other 
hand,  had  altogether  succim[ibed  to  his  woe,  he  had 
taken  to  his  bed,  and  was  frequently  tormented  by 
epileptic  hts. 

The  doctor,  worthy  Mr.  Laurence  Scurkanty^ 
regularly  every  day  deposited  his  rotmd-headed 
bamboo  cane  in  the  doorway,  rubbed  his  short- 
cropped  grey  hair  all  over  with  his  jxxJset  hand- 
kerchief for  a  minute  or  two,  felt  the  respective 
pulses,  wrote  out  prescnptions  for  unguents  and 
syruj)s;  ordered  baths,  blisters,  clysters,  and  cold 
douches — and  all  to  no  purpose,  as  both  patients 
seemed  to  dwindle  away  more  and  m6re  day  by 
day.  The  only  really  doubtful  point  seemed  to  be, 
which  erf  the  two  would  bury  the  other? 

One  day,  when  Dr.  Sarkantyus  was  superintend- 
ing the  preparation  of  a  hot  bath,  a  light  chaise 
drove  into  the  courtyard  of  the  castle,  from  which 
our  unknown  friend  descended,  dressed  in  a  stylish 


%S6  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

black  frock  coat,  and  shod  with  elegant  calfskin 
shoes.  His  long  hciir  was  combed  back  and 
smoothed  down  behind  his  ears  on  both  sides,  and 
he  had  an  eyeglass  cocked  knowingly  in  one  eye. 
Altogether  he  looked  very  different  from  what  he 
was  when  we  last  saw  him.  His  characteristic  sang 
froidy  that  pecuKar  rigidity  of  the  lips,  that  faint 
farrow  in  the  middle  of  the  forehead  between  the 
eyebrows>  and  the  gravity  of  the  somewhat  languid 
face,  made  the  metamorphosis  complete.  A  savant, 
a.  scholar  of  practical  experience,  a  cosmopolitan 
physician  stands  before  us. 

He  inquired  for  Mr.  Szephalmi.  The  servants  at 
once  announced  his  arrival,  and  presently  a  broken- 
down,  prematurely  aged  man  appeared,  with  sunken 
cheeks^  pale  withered  lips,  and  staring  eyes  starting 
from  their  sockets,  and  with  but  the  ghost  of  their 
former  brilliance  and  expressiveness. 

After  the  first  greetings  the  stranger  handed 
him  a  letter.  Szephalmi  broke  it  op>en  and  read  it 
with  an  apology  for  so  doing,  and  all  the  time  his 
hands  trembled 

The  letter  was  from  his  friend,  Ambrose  Ligety, 
who  infonned  him  that  the  bearer  of  the  letter  was 
a  famous  physician,  who  had  just  come  from  France, 
and  cured  maladies  by  means  of  magnetism. 
Would  he  allow  this  doctor  to  make  experiments 
upon  the  old  squire?  He  had  reason  to  believe 
tiiat  such  experiments  would  not  be  thrown  away. 

Szephalmi  sighed  deeply,  and  conducted  the 
stranger  into  the  parlour  where  he  beckoned  him 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  isy 

to  take  a  seat  As  yet  they  had  not  exchanged  a 
single  word  professionally. 

Then  Szephalmi  went  into  an  adjoining  chamber, 
where  he  encountered  Dr.  Sarkantyiis,  and  showed 
him  the  letter. 

Dr.  Sarkantyiis  thereupon  told  him  that  his 
honour,  Judge  Ligety,  was  a  big  donkey,  that  the 
French  doctor  was  a  still  bigger  one,  but  that  the 
old  gentleman  would  be  the  biggest  one  of  all  if  he 
allowed  himself  to  be  meddled  with.  Let  them  try 
it,  however,  by  all  means,  if  they  choose,  he  added. 

Nevertheless,  he  could  not  help  going  out  to  have 
a  look  at  this  miraculous  Scarabceus  that  professed 
to  be  able  to  cure  men  with  the  tips  of  its  antennae. 

The  yoimg  man  greeted  him  with  refined  courtesy, 
and  the  Doctor  anxious  to  show  him  that  he  under- 
stood French,  addressed  him  in  what  he  supposed 
to  be  that  language,  a  smattering  of  which  he  had 
picked  up  as  far  back  as  the  time  of  the  Emperor 
Napoleon  L 

**Vooz-ate  oon  medesen,  monshoo?* 

**  Oui,  monsieur,  mon  collegue." 

"  The  Devil  is  your  collegue,  I  am  not ! — ^VocMt- 
ate  oon  magnetizoor,  monshoo?" 

"  Oui  mon  cher  bonhomme." 

"  Zate— oon — ^sharlatanery,  mohshoo !  * 

"  Coiome  toute  la  medecine,  monsieur." 

Dr.  Sarkantyiis  put  both  hands  behind  his  back, 
measiured  the  young  man  first  from  head  to  foot, 
and  then  from  foot  to  head,  scratched  his  own  head 
violently,  and  retreated  precipitately. 


958  THE   DAY   OF   WRATH, 

And  now  Szephalmi  rejoined  the  stranger,  and 
begged  him  to  come  in  and  see  the  invalid. 

In  the  adjoining  chamber  where  old  H6tfalusy 
was  lying,  the  curtains  were  drawn  and  the  floor 
was  covered  with  carpets,  so  that  no  light  and  no 
noise  should  disturb  the  sufferer. 

On  the  lofty  bed  lay  a  motionless  figure,  with 
dosed  eyes  and  hands  folded  across  his  breast,  a 
motionless,  helpless  bit  of  earth,  worse  off  indeed 
than  other  bits  of  earth,  because  it  had  the  con- 
sciousness of  existence. 

The  stranger  approached  the  bed,  seized  one  of 
the  cold  bony  hands,  tested  the  pulse  and  laid  his 
liand  on  the  invalid's  forehead.  It  might  have  been 
a  corpse  that  lay  there.  The  eyes  did  not  open,  the 
blood  scarce  seemed  to  flow  through  the  veins,  the 
respiration  was  hardly  perceptible. 

**  He  lies  like  that  all  day  long,"  said  Sz6phalmi 
to  the  stranger. 

The  youth  took  his  rings  from  his  hands,  asked 
for  a  glass  of  water,  and  drew  the  tips  of  his  fingers 
first  round  the  rim  of  the  glass  and  then  along  the 
eyeballs  and  the  temples  of  the  old  man  in  a  down- 
ward direction. 

Szephalmi  stood  beside  him  with  a  dubious 
expression*  The  young  man  at  once  observed 
it 

*You,  sir,  are  also  a  sufferer,"  said  he;  "my 
method  can  ciure  you  also." 

Szephalmi  smiled  bitterly — galvanised  corpses 
xnay  srcdle  in  the  same  way. 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  159 

•The  balm  that  is  to  cure  me  does  not  eiist»" 
said  he. 

"My  method  does  not  depend  on  material  sub- 
stances. You  shall  see.  In  an  hour's  time  you  shall 
have  actual  experience  of  my  treatment  Your  cases 
are  very  much  alike." 

"How  so?" 

"They  are  due  to  the  same  cause.  The  hidden 
seat  of  the  evil  in  both  your  cases  is  the  mind,  both 
ci  you  are  suffering  from  terrible  bereavementsj,  you 
have  lost  your  wife  and  two  children,  the  old  man 
his  daughter  and  two  grandchildren." 

The  sick  old  man  drew  a  long  and  deep  sigh  at 
these  words,  but  his  eyes  still  remained  closed 
Szephalmi  sat  down  on  a  chair  beside  him,  hid  his 
face  in  his  hands,  and  fell  a  weeping. 

The  yoimg  unknown  continued  to  draw  his  fingers 
sofdy  round  the  rim  of  the  glass,  producing  a  ghostly 
sort  of  low  wailing  sound. 

"The  water  will  become  magnetic  before  long," 
said  he,  "  and  then  we  shall  see." 

"Yet,"  pursued  he,  "there  is  an  even  more  evil 
malady  than  the  sorrow  of  bereavement,  and  that 
is— remorse.  You  are  both  troubled  by  the  bitter 
memories  of  an  irrevocable  past  You  did  not 
always  love  your  children,  your  grandchildren^  as 
you  do  now  that  they  are  both  dead — ^and  this  is  the 
greatest  affliction  of  alL" 

At  these  words  the  sick  H6tfalusy  opened  his 
eyes  and  gazed  at  the  speaker  in  astonishment 

Szephalmi  stammered  scorowf ully  t 


l6o  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

"  Oh,  sir !  why  do  you  torture  us  with  these 
words?  They  make  the  poor  old  man's  heart 
bleed." 

"I  see.  Already  he  begins  to  revive.  The 
medicine  is  a  violent  one,  no  doubt,  but  for  that  very 
reason  all  the  more  efficacious.  Suffering  super- 
venes^ and  in  suffering  lies  the  very  crisis  of  the 
malady.  But  a  few  more  drops  of  this  water.  So ! 
The  reaction  will  be  still  more  violent  presently,  as 
you  shall  see.  The  sick  man  will  groan  and  have 
convulsions.  Cold  drops  of  sweat  will  exude  from 
his  temples.  After  that,  however,  he  will  grow 
calmer,  and  the  cure  will  be  complete  if  God  help 
us." 

The  youth  continued  to  magnetise  the  water. 

"  The  sick  man's  greatest  pain  proceeds  from  the 
recollection  of  those  years  when  first  you  made  the 
acquaintance  of  his  recently  deceased  daughter." 

"  What  do  you  know,  sir,  of  those  years  ?  "  stam- 
mered Szephalmi,  much  surprised. 

"As  much  as  a  doctor  ought  to  know  whose 
business  it  is  to  cure  the  hearts  of  his  patients.  He 
strongly  opposed  the  marriage  of  the  girl  with  you. 
H^  was  wrong  in  so  doing.  True  affection  when 
•xcluded  from  the  right  road  seeks  out  secret  paths 
for  itself.  You  discovered  for  yourselves  some  such 
secret  path." 

"Sir!" 

"Hush!  The  patient  is  groaning.  The  cure  is 
operating.  These  secret  relations  had  consequences 
which  could  not  be  hidden.    Your  wife  became  a 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  i6i 

mother  before  she  was  yet  your  wife.  Pardon  me, 
sir,  but  it  is  as  a  doctor  that  I  address  yon." 

"  How  do  you  come  to  know  all  this?  "  faltered 
Szdphalmi,  in  a  scarcely  audible  voice.  "  And  when 
it  was  kept  so  secret  too !  "  he  thought  to  himself. 
The  same  instant  the  old  man  made  a  violent  effort 
to  rise  from  his  bed  and  compel  the  speaker  to  be 
silent 

"  It  is  having  a  strong  effect,  a  very  strong  effect," 
said  the  youth,  feeling  the  sick  man's  pulse.  "  His 
pulse  is  beating  ten  strikes  more  a  minute  that  it 
did  just  now.  Squire  Hetfalusy,"  he  resumed,  "  on 
hearing  these  evil  tidings  flew  into  a  violent  temper ; 
he  was  always  a  very  passionate  man.  He  told  his 
daughter  that  if  she  did  not  kill  her  child,  he  himself 
would  kill  the  pair  of  them.  He  would  have  married 
her  to  someone  else,  to  a  rich  man  of  high  nink. 
This  unlucky  accident  must  be  kept  secret  The 
girl  WcLs  very  miserable.  Her  brother  stood  forth 
m  her  defence,  and  took  her  part  against  his  own 
father,  and  his  father  cursed  him  in  consequence, 
expelled  him  from  the  house,  and  forbade  him  ever 
to  show  his  face  there  again.  And  the  uninvited 
guest,  the  little  suckling  who  had  no  right  to  be 
bom,  cJso  atoned  for  its  fault ;  they  said  that  it  was 
dead.  Oh,  how  the  sick  man  is  pressing  my  hand 
with  his  cramped  fingers!  This  method  of  treat- 
ment is  working  wonders." 

Szephalmi  sank  back  into  the  depths  of  his  arm- 
chair and  shivered  as  if  with  an  ague  fit 

"The  rich  man,  however,  abandoned  the  bride 

L 


X6tf  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

on  the  very  day  of  the  wedding,  and  in  that  same 
year  the  elder  Hetfalusy  suddenly  grew  grey.  You 
see,  sir,  I  am  well  informed.  A  doctor  ought  to 
know  every  little  detail  relating  to  a  case  if  he  is 
to  cure  the  patient.  The  father  was  now  ready  to 
let  his  daughter  marry  her  former  lover,  but  you 
were  no  longer  inclined  for  such  a  marriage.  One 
day,  however,  the  girl  went  to  you  of  her  own  accord, 
with  the  face  of  a  limatic,  and  threatened  .  .  ." 

**  Hush,  sir !  for  Heaven's  sake !  " 

"Ah!  how  much  more  rapidly  his  blood  is  circu- 
lating. His  muscles  are  twitching,  his  lips  are 
convulsed,  his  arteries  begin  to  throb — the  girl 
threatened  to  reveal  the  fact  that  she  had  killed  her 
child  and  so  mount  the  scaffold,  unless  you  made 
her  your  wife." 

The  sick  man  began  to  throw  about  his  arms, 
and  cold  drops  of  sweat,  like  transparent  pearls, 
welled  forth  from  his  forehead.  Szephalmi  arose 
and  walked  about  the  room  wringing  his  hands. 

"Who  told  you  that?"  he  asked  the  stranger, 
suddenly  planting  himself  right  in  front  of  him. 

"  Softly,  sir,  you  are  disturbing  me.  The  patient 
is  about  to  take  a  favourable  turn,  look  how  he  is 
sweating.  His  sufferings  are  violent,  and  I  am  glad 
to  see  them,  it  shows  that  his  vital  energy  is  return- 
ing. Repose  is  a  symptom  of  death,  pain  is  a  sign 
of  life.  Let  us  go  on  with  our  magnetising.  These 
long  passes  from  the  temples  to  the  shoulders  work 
wonders.  The  whole  soul  of  the  sick  man  now 
clings  to  the  thought  that  just  because  he  himself 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  163 

cast  forth  his  first  grandchild,  which  he  hated,  there- 
fore God  took  from  him  the  other  two  which  he 
loved.  Notice,  sir!  that  heaving  bosom,  those  fiery 
red  eyes,  those  swelling  lips — all  of  them  are  in 
tlieir  way  the  interpreters  of  that  one  thought 
God  has  punished  him  and  you,  the  father  and  the 
grandfather ;  He  has  removed  from  you  the  blessing 
which  you  rejected  of  your  own  accord,  and  now 
you  stand  by  yourselves  in  the  world,  so  lonely, 
so  comfortless,  joined  to  each  other  by  nothing 
but  the  recollection  of  a  terrible  loss." 

Szephalmi  buried  his  head  among  the  pillows  of 
the  speechless  invalid  and  sobbed  bitterly. 

Then  the  youth  arose  and  took  the  old  man's 
haiKi  in  his  hand,  gazed  steadily  into  his  burning 
eyes  with  his  eyes,  and  with  a  voice  of  exaltation 
thus  addressed  the  unhappy  wretch,  who  seemed 
to  be  bearing  in  his  bosom  all  the  torments  of  Hell : 

"  Suppose  someone  were  to  come  here  to  you  now 
and  say,  *  Behold!  that  outcast  child,  whom  you 
wished  to  think  of  as  dea.d,  nay,  or  murdered !  whose 
birth  you  cursed,  and  whose  death  you  prayed  for, 
I  now  give  her  back  to  you !  * — ^how  would  you 
feel?" 

The  sick  man  there  and  then  drew  the  youth's 
hand  up  to  his  lips,  and  with  an  effort  raised  himself 
up  in  his  bed.  His  lips  were  wide  open,  his  tongue 
babbled  something  imintelligible,  while  Szephalmi 
r^arded  him  with  amazement,  and  tugged  away  at 
his  own  hair  like  one  possessed. 

The  youth  put  his  hand  into  his  bosom  and  drew 


x64  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

forth  tbe  little  baby's  cap  embroidered  with  rose- 
buds and  forget-me-nots,  and  held  it  up  before  the 
two  men. 

"What  if  someone  were  to  restore  to  you  the 
darling  wearer  of  that  little  cap?  What  if  I  were  to 
tell  you  that  a  single  consolation  still  remained  to 
you,  an  angel  sent  from  Heaven  in  whom  you  could 
learn  to  rejoice  once  more?  What  if  I  were  to 
tell  you  that  she  had  grown  up  as  gentle  aiid  as 
beautiful  as  those  angels  who  are  permitted  to 
minister  to  the  earth?  " 

At  these  words  the  father  knelt  down  at  the 
stranger's  feet  and  kissed  his  hands  in  a  transpwDrt 
of  joy,  while  old  Hetfalusy,  in  a  sort  of  paroxysm 
threw  himself  off  the  bed,  made  a  snatch  at  the 
little  pearl-embroidered  cap,  and  exclaimed  in  a 
piercing  voice : 

"Elise!" 

The  remedy  had  indeed  been  efficacious.  The 
old  man  was  actually  sitting  up  and  had  recovered 
the  use  of  his  tongue. 

The  broken-down  old  man,  who  had  been  in  a 
state  of  collapse,  now  violently  seized  the  youth's 
arm  with  his  still  tremulous  hand,  and  groped  his 
way  along  it  till  he  Wcis  able  to  touch  the  Uttle  cap 
with  his  lips. 

"Elise,  Elise,  wore  that!  How  beautiful  she 
was !  "  he  cried. 

"Where  is  she?"  sobbed  Szephalmi,  hiding  his 
face  in  his  hands. 

"  N.0W  she  is  indeed  beautiful .  She  is  in  safe 


THE   POLISH  WOMAN.  165 

hands  too.  She  has  found  a  loving  father  who 
g^uards  her  as  the  apple  of  his  eye.  And  she  is 
wise  as  well  as  beautiful  Her  glorious  eyes  are  as 
blue  as  the  expanse  of  heaven,  and  radiant  with 
innocence  and  goodness.  Her  lips  are  cis  small  as 
wild  strawberries,  and  when  she  smiles  her  pretty 
Httle  face  is  full  of  dimples." 

"  Yes,  yes,  she  promised  to  be  like  that ! "  stam- 
mered Szephalmi,  pressing  the  stranger's  hand  to  his 
heart 

But  old  Hetfalusy  was  sitting  up  in  bed  and 
insisted  upon  getting  up. 

"  I  am  going.  I  am  going  for  her.  Lead  me  to 
her.     I  will  fetch  her." 

"  Softly,  softly,  sir.  Lie  down  again  1  Remember 
that  I  am  a  doctor,  and  I  have  still  to  cure  you.  You 
must  continue  to  lie  in  bed  for  some  time,  and 
cannot  yet  see  your  grandchild.  The  girl  is  with 
folks  who  love  her.  Her  adopted  father  is  all  love, 
you  have  been  all  hatred  You  must  first  be  cured 
of  that  evil  sickness." 

"  Of  what  sickness?  I  am  no  longer  sick.  I  am 
quite  cured." 

"  Of  hatred.  You  have  a  cast-off  son  who  perhaps 
at  this  very  moment  is  standing  on  the  threshold  of 
destruction.  You  have  no  thought  for  him.  You 
have  still  some  hard  stones  in  your  heart  Those 
stones  must  first  of  all  be  pulverized  and  dissolved. 
Now  if  this  son  of  yours  were  standing  here,  and  you 
were  to  stretch  out  your  arms  to  him  and  say,  *  My 
child!'  then  you  would  be  cured,  then  you  might 
very  well  say,  *  I  am  no  longer  sick.' " 


166  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

"And  shall  I  not  see  my  child  till  then? "  wailed 
Szephalmi. 

"  Sir,  you  kre  very  exacting." 

**  Ask  of  me  what  you  will,  I  place  all  my  property 
at  your  disposal.  If  you  will  not  bring  my  child 
hither,  at  least  take  me  where  I  may  see  her.  You 
need  not  tell  her  I  am  her  father,  I  only  want  to' 
exchange  a  word  or  two  with  her.  Whatever  price 
you  may  put  on  such  a  service  I  shall  not  consider 
it  too  great" 

"  Sir,  I  am  no  impostor  who  wants  to  make  money 
out  of  you.  The  only  recompense  I  claim  for  restor* 
ing  to  you  your  lost  child  is  that  you  welcome  back 
the  youth  who  was  driven  from  this  home.  I  have 
odd  desires  sometimes,  but  I  stick  to  them." 

The  young  man  shrugged  his  shoulders,  refolded 
tiie  little  pearl-trimmed  cap,,  thrust  it  into  his  bosom 
again,  and  coldly  replied : 

"And  if  we  cannot  save  this  yoimg  man? " 

"  Then  I  shall  keep  my  secret  and  you  will  never 
know  where  the  girl  is." 

Old  Hetfalusy  sighed  deeply. 

"  Bring  me  pen  and  paper,"  said  he  to  his  son-ia- 
law. 

The  latter  looked  at  him  as  if  he  did  not  under- 
stand. 

The  old  man  insisted  impatiently. 

"Place  the  table  here  and  give  me  writing- 
inaterials^  I  say." 

When  he  had  got  what  he  wanted  he  beckonedl 
to  the  stranger. 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  i6y 

"Listen,  sir,  to  what  I  write,"  said  he. 
Then  he  cirose  from  his  bed,  t(X)k  up  the  pen,  and 
wrote  with  a  trembling  hand  the  following  letter  :i 

•*To  General  V^rtessy, 

"  Sir, — By  a  divine  miracle  I  have  recovered 
within  the  last  hour  my  power  of  speech,  and  the 
use  of  my  fingers.  The  very  first  word  I  am  able 
to  speak  and  to  write  I  address  to  you  who  have 
such  good  cause  to  hate  me,  and  that  word  is — 
mercy!  I  ask  of  you  mercy  towards  that  son  of 
mine  to  whom  I  myself  have  never  shown  mercy. 
I  ask  for  mercy  from  you  who  in  yoiu:  judicial 
capacity  have  never  shown  mercy  to  anyone.  You 
know  full  well  that  all  the  faults  of  this  child  of 
mine  are  due  entirely  to  me.  You  know  that  my 
cruelty  has  made  life  a  wilderness  to  him  and  filled 
him  with  cynical  bitterness — ^he  who  was  always  so 
tender-hearted  that  even  an  angry  look  was  pain 
to  him.  Behold,  sir !  the  one  man  who  could  venture 
to  insult  you  with  impunity  now  lies  in  the  dust 
before  you,  and  begs  for  your  compassion-  And  in 
order  that  such  compassion  may  not  appear  as  rust 
on  your  iron  character,  show  this  letter  to  the  world 
and  say:  'My  mortal  enemy  has  wept  before  me 
in  the  dust  in  order  that  I  might  condescend  to 
stoop  down  cind  rciise  him  up.'  Your  humbled, 
eternally  faithful  servant, 

"Benjamin  Hetfalusy." 

"Would  you  look  at  this  letter,  sir? "  asked  the 


l68  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

old  man,  turning  towards  the  stranger— cod 
were  tears  in  his  tyes. 

"  I  thank  you,"  faltered  the  strainer,  and  he  kb^ 
self  hastened  to  fold  up  the  letter  and  seal  it 
"  Sz6phalmi  will  deliver  it" 
"  Nay,  sir,  I  will  see  to  that  myself ." 
"  You  will?    But  who,  then,  are  you?  " 
"  That  I  will  tell  you — perhaps— some  day.* 
The  old  man  took  the  youth's  hand  in  both  hit» 
and  pressing  them  warmly,  said  in  a  Toioe  that 
trembled  with  emotion : 
"God  help  you!" 

At  that  moment  Dr.  Sarkantyds  peeped  in  at 
the  door,  and  was  amazed  to  see  the  old  man  talking 
and  writing  the  address  on  a  letter  with  his  own 
right  hand,  while  his  whole  countenance  was  warm 
with  feeling.  This  magnetic  cure  was  truly  mar- 
vellous. 

He  approached  the  youth  and,  bowing  respect- 
fully, remarked, 
"  Mossoo!  vooz  ate  oon  anshantoor !  " 
"Possibly,  but  why  should  we  not  speak  Hun- 
garian? "  replied  the  other  smiling. 

"Then  you  are  not  French?"  asked  the  dum- 
foxmded  doctor. 

"Why  should  I  be?  It  does  not  follow  because 
a  person  may  have  just  come  from  France  that 
therefore  he  is  a  Frenchman,  does  it?  " 

"All  the  better  pleased,  I  am  sure,  my  dear 
colleague!  " — and  then  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him 
that  only  a  short  time  ago  he  had  said  to  him  in 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  169 

Htingariani  "The  Devil  may  be  your  ooUeague, 
I'm  not!" 

"  All  you  have  to  do  now  is  to  give  the  patient 
tonics;  that  won't  interfere  with  my  cure.  I  shall 
come  back  again  in  a  few  days,  and  by  that  time  I 
hope  he  will  be  quite  strong.  Till  then,  let  us  trust 
in  God!" 

The  yoxmg  unknown  then  hastened  to  his 
carriage,  Szephalmi  accompanying  him  the  whole 
way. 

Everyone  who  had  recently  seen  the  old  man 
apparently  on  the  verge  of  the  grave,  and  now 
beheld  him  completely  changed,  going  about  with 
a  lively  irritable  temper  and  rosy  cheeks^  were 
amazed  at  this' wonder-doctor  who  could  perform 
cures  by  the  mere  touch  of  his  finger-tips. 

•  He  must  be  a  magician  1 "  said  they. 


The  unknown  next  presented  himself  at  the 
residence  of  General  V6rtessy. 

They  told  him  this  was  not  the  official  hour  for 
being  received ;  at  such  times  the  General  was  wont 
to  be  with  his  wife.    He  replied : 

**  So  much  the  better ;  what  I  have  to  tell  him 
will  be  better  told  in  the  presence  of  his  wife." 

The  General  was  informed  of  this  odd  wish,  and 
took  to  the  idea  so  kindly  that  he  ordered  the  young 
man  to  be  instantly  admitted. 

And,  in  a  few  moments,  a  handsome,  courtly  youth 
stood  before  him,  who  greeted  the  General  frankly 


tyo  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

and  the  General's  wife  ceremoniously.  In  his  hands 
he  carried  a  small  forage-cap  with  a  border  of  thin 
gold  thread  round  it,  and  his  whole  style  and  bear- 
ing testified  to  the  fact  that,  somewhere  or  other, 
he  had  been  brought  up  as  a  soldier. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  General,  for  disturbing  you 
so  tmconscionably,  and  robbing  you  of  your  most 
precious  moments,  but  the  business  on  which  I  have 
come  admits  of  no  delay.  My  name  is  Count 
Kamienszky,  I  come  from  Poland,  and  I  bring  3. 
petition  in  favour  of  young  Hetfalusy,  who  deserted 
in  the  belief  that  he  had  shot  his  captain" 

The  General's  face  grew  suddenly  cold.  He  had 
become  a  cast-iron  statue,  just  as  he  was  wont  to  be 
when  on  parade. 

"  From  whom  is  your  petition?  " 

**  From  the  very  officer  for  whom  his  bullet  was 
intended.  That  bullet  did  not  strike  home,  but 
stuck  fast  in  his  laced  jacket ;  yet  it  was  well  aimed 
too  at  thirty  paces,  just  in  the  middle  of  the  heart" 

**  And  what  does  the  officer  want?  " 

"Pardon  for  the  deserter.  He  admits  that  he 
was  in  the  wrong.  He  insulted  a  woman — I  speak 
with  absolute  certainty,  for  I  am  that  woman's 
relation — and  he  would  now  make  good  his  fault 
by  imploring  pcirdon  for  the  man  who  stood  forth 
to  wipe  out  that  insult" 

**  To  implore  pardon  is  not  enough.  What  can 
he  say  in  the  man's  defence?  " 

"He  certifies  that  the  youth  Wcis  a  pattern  of 
soldierly  honour,  valour,  and  discipline,   that  his 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  i|t 

comrades  idolized  him,  his  superiors  liked  him,  and 
they  now  unanimously  unite  in  this  petition  for  hia 
pardon.  I  have  brought  letters  with  me  to  prove 
all  that  I  say ;  be  so  good  as  to  peruse  them!  " 

The  General  took  the  letters  and  read  them 
through.  He  discovered  more  than  one  old  oomr 
rade,  more  than  one  dear  friend  among  the  names 
written  there.  The  young  man  had  spoken  the 
truth.  But  what  was  the  use  of  it;  all.  The  daimai 
of  duty  only  became  the  more  urgent. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  General  coldly,  folding  up  the 
letters  again  and  placing  them  on  the  table,  "I 
gather  from  your  manner  and  bearing  that  you 
were  brought  up  as  a  soldier." 

**  You  are  right.  General.  I  passed  the  years  of 
my  childhood  at  a  military  institution,  and  a  Httle 
time  ago  I  was  a  soldier  myself." 

"  In  that  case  you  must  have  some  notion  of  the 
absolute  necessity  of  the  strictest  discipline  so  long 
as  the  soldier  is  imder  arms." 

"  I  am  well  aware  of  it,  and  it  was  not  that  which 
made  me  abandon  a  military  career.  If  he  whom 
I  am  now  addressing  were  to  say  to  me,  *  I  stand 
here  as  a  judge,'  I  should  simply  withdraw,  knowingi 
that  my  cause  was  lost  But,  sir,  I  am  now  address- 
ing the  man  that  is  in  you,  a  man  with  a  heart,  a< 
being  blessed  with  human  feeling,  'tis  to  him  that  I 
would  speak." 

And  the  large  black  eyes  of  the  stranger  had  sudii 
a  heart-searching  expression  in  them  that  tfaii 
General  turned  away  from  him» 


a;*       THE  DAY  OF  WRATH. 

Then,  as  if  still  in  search  of  hope  and  confidence, 
the  youth  glanced  in  the  direction  of  the  General's 
wife,  and  her  bright  eyes  gave  him  in  return  such  a 
look  of  encouragement,  as  if  to  bid  him  not  to 
fear,  for  they  two  were  certainly  at  one  in  the 
matter. 

But  now  the  General  turned  sharply  round  upon 
the  stranger  again. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  am  commonly  called, 
whether  from  fear,  or  fun,  or  respect,  I  will  not  say, 
that  is  all  one  to  me,  but  do  you  know  what  they 
commonly  call  me?" 

"Yes,  they  call  you  *the  man  of  iron,*  yet  even 
iron  melts  in  a  smelting-furnace." 

"Do  you  fancy  there  in  such  a  smelting-furnace 
in  the  world?  " 

"  I  hope  so.  I  have  got  one  more  letter  for  you. 
I  ought  to  have  given  it  to  you  first  of  all,  but  I  have 
kept  it  till  last  The  handwriting  will  be  familiar 
to  you.     Take  it  and  read  it  through." 

The  General  was  dumfounded  when  he  recog- 
nised the  handwriting  in  which  the  address  was 
written.  The  hand  which  had  penned  those  lines 
had  been  somewhat  tremulous,  that  was  plain  from 
the  irregularity  oi  the  script,  but  he  recognised  it 
perfectly  all  the  same. 

As  he  regarded  it  he  grew  a  shade  paler. 

He  evened  the  letter,  and  his  eyes  remained 
riveted  on  the  very  first  line  as  if  he  were  too 
astonished  to  proceed  any  further. 

"Read  on.  General,  I  b^.    Read  it  out  aloud," 


THE  POLISH  WOMAN.  173 

munmired  the  youth;  "we  shall  see  whether  the 
iron  will  melt  or  not" 

The  General  stared  stiffly  for  a  time  at  the  young 
man,  then  he  read  the  letter  through  in  silence, 
finally  refolding  it  and  thrusting  it  into  his  breast- 
pocket 

Then  he  turned  to  the  window,  and  remained  for 
a  long  time  in  a  brown  study. 

Suddenly  he  turned  once  more  towards  the  youth 
and  said : 

"  Sir,  devise  some  means  whereby  I  may  save  this 
man  Find,  I  say,  some  way  or  mode  of  salvation 
compatible  with  soldierly  honour,  and  I  will  pursue 
it" 

The  youth,  surprised,  overcome,  rushed  towards 
the  General,  seized  his  muscular  hand,  and  would 
certainly  have  kissed  it  had  not  the  General  drawn 
it  back 

Vertessy  was  very  near  losing  his  composure. 

"  Stay  here !  "  said  he.  "  There  you  have,"  point- 
ing at  Cornelia,  "a  confederate  who  would  also 
take  the  stronghold  by  assault  Deliberate  together, 
and  devise  some  expedient  I  leave  you  to  your- 
selves." 

And  with  that  he  quitted  the  room^  leaving  the 
young  man  alone  with  his  wife. 

And  when  he  had  gone,  when  the  door  had  closed 
to  behind  him,  the  figure  of  the  strange  youth  lost 
its  soldierly  bearing,  and  his  limbs  with  a  painful 
spasm  subsided  into  that  picturesque  pose  in  which 
artists  generally  represent  Niobe,  or  the  Daughters 


■74  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

of  Sion  mourning  by  the  willows  of  Babylon.  Every 
trace  of  energy  and  vigour  vanished  from  his  face, 
his  eyelids  closed  over  his  tea^ul  eyes,  and  his  lips 
parted  with  an  expression  of  the  deepest  emotion. 
Once  more  he  raised  his  languishing  head  to  show 
his  strength  of  mind,  but  the  effort  was  useless.  In- 
the  presence  of  a  woman  such  affectation  was  no 
longer  possible,  and  when  his  eyes  met  those  of 
Cornelia,  he  suddenly  burst  into  tears,  fell  sobbing 
on  his  knees  before  her,  seized  her  hand,  pressed  it 
convulsively  to  his  breast,  and  trembling  and  gasp- 
ing, said  to  her  in  a  voice  full  of  agony : 

"  Oh,  madame,  by  the  tender  mercies  of  God,  I 
implore  you  to  help  me  and  not  forsake  me" 

Cornelia  regarded  him  with  wondering  eyes,  her 
shrewd  intellect  had  already  deciphered  the  enigma^ 
but  her  eyes  still  looked  doubtful 

"  Who  are  you?  "  she  asked. 

The  stranger  covered  his  blushing  face  with  both 
hands  and  sobbed  forth : 

"A  woman,  an  imhappy  woman,  who  loves,  who 
is  beside  herself,  who  is  ready  to  die  for  him  fh^ 
lovea.** 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  PLAGUE. 

There  is  a  mighty  Potentate  among  us  here  below, 
the  secrets  of  whose  existence  axe  still  unknown  to 
our  wise  men,  although  they  have  a  lot  to  tell  us 
about  her  power ;  a  Potentate  whom  they  have  not 
yet  taught  us  to  fear,  or  else  everybody  would  not 
still  be  turning  to  her  full  of  hope. 

This  Potentate  is  not  Hell,  but  the  Earth. 

Yes,  the  good,  the  blessed,  the  peaceful  Earth. 
She  is  not  violent  like  the  other  elements,  fire,  water, 
and  air.  She  calmly  allows  herself  to  be  trampled 
underfoot ;  lets  us  make  great  wounds  in  her ;  lets 
us  load  her  broad  back  with  cities  and  towns ;  crush 
her  bones  by  driving  deep  mining-shafts  into  her— 
and  for  all  that  she  allows  us  who  plague  her  so, 
to  live  and  multiply  in  the  midst  of  her  dust 

Has  anyone  ever  inquired  of  her:  Oh,  my 
sovereign  mistress!  thou  good  and  blessed  Earth! 
art  thou  pleased  with  the  deeds  we  do  upon  thee? 
Can  it  please  thee,  perchance;  to  see  us  root  up  thy 
beauteous  fresh  woods  from  off  thee,  leaving  tl^ 
tormented  body  all  naked  in  the  bkze  of  the  Sun?^ 


176  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

Can  it  please  thee  to  see  us  constrain  thy  flowing 
rivers  within  narrow  basins,  dry  up  thy  lakes  and 
leave  thee  athirst?  Can  it  please  thee  to  see  us 
tear  open  thy  body,  break  it  up  into  little  fragments^ 
and  compel  these  fragments  to  produce  meat  and 
drink  for  us?  Can  it  please  thee  to  see  us  drench 
thy  flowery  meads  with  blood  and  hide  away  thes 
bones  of  our  dead  in  thy  bosom?  Can  it  please 
thee  that  we  live  upon  thee  here,  and  bless  and 
curse  thee  that  t|iou  mayest  nourish  us^  and  rack 
our  brains  as  to  how  we  may  best  multiply  our 
species  in  those  portions  of  the  earth  where  men 
are  still  but  few? 

Nevertheless,  the  Earth  patiently  endures  all  this 
ill-treatment  Only  now  and  then  does  she  tremble 
with  a  fleeting  horror,  and  then  the  palaces  heaped' 
upctti  her  totter  to  their  very  foundations.  Yet  arc' 
there  any  among  us  who  imderstcind  the  hint? 

And  then  for  centuries  afterwards  she  gives  not 
a  single  sign  of  life.  She  puts  up  with  her  naughty 
children  as  every  good  mother  does.  She  overlooks 
and  hides  away  their  faults  and  endures  in  their 
stead  the  visitations  of  Heaven.  She  is  never  angry 
with  them,  she  never  punishes  them.  She  cherishes 
and  nourishes  them,  and  expects  no  gratitude  in 
return.  She  only  pines  and  pines,  she  only  frets 
within  herself,  she  only  grieves  and  is  anxious  about 
the  fate  of  her  children,  her  selfish,  heartless 
children:  grief  and  an^ish,  the  nastiness  and  the 
wickedness  of  man  slowly  undermine  her  strength 
and  suddenly  the  Earth  sickena 


THE  PLAGUE.  177 

Oh!  how  man  falls  down  and  perishes  when  the 
earth  is  sick! — like  the  parasitical  aphis-grub  from 
the  jaundiced  leaves ! 

New  sorts  of  death  for  which  there  is  no  name 
appear  in  the  midst  of  the  terrified  peoples,  and  a 
breath  of  air  carries  off  the  bravest  and  the 
strongest  In  vain  they  shut  themselves  up  within 
stone  walls,  anoint  their  bodies  with  salutary  balms, 
and  hold  their  very  breath.  Death  invisible  stalks 
through  the  fast-closed  doors  and  seeks  out  them 
that  fear  him.  No  vitiated  air,  no  contagion  is 
necessary ;  men  have  but  to  hear  the  name  of  this 
•trange  death  and  they  tremble  and  die. 

This  is  no  mere  mortal  malady,  the  Earth,  the 
lEarth  herself  is  sick. 


And  how  comical  too  this  terror  is ! 

I  remember  those  times.  I  was  only  a  child  then, 
1  fancy,  and  the  general  terror  affected  me  but  little ; 
nay,  the  novelty  of  the  situation  rather  diverted  me. 
We  were  not  allowed  to  go  to  school,  we  had  a 
vacation  for  an  indefinite  period  at  which  I  was 
much  delighted  I  must  confess.  Our  towns  were 
separated  from  each  other  by  military  cordons,  and 
all  strangers  passing  to  and  fro  were  rigorously 
examined.  My  good  father,  whose  gentle,  serious 
face  is  one  of  my  most  pleasant  memories,  buckled 
on  his  silver-hilted  sword  and  went  off  himself  to 
mount  guard  somewhere.  I  had  greater  confidence 
in  that  sword  than  in  the  whole  English  navy.    My 

M 


178  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

blessed,  thoughtful,  mother  hung  round  each  of  our 
necks  little  bags  with  large  bits  of  camphor  in 
them,  in  the  beneficial  effects  of  which  we  believed 
absolutely,  and  strictly  forbade  us  to  eat  melons 
and  peaches.  And  we  were  good  dutiful  children 
and  strictly  obeyed  her  commands.  And  yet  in  that 
very  year,  just  as  if  Nature  had  resolved  to  be 
satirical  at  our  expense,  our  gardens  and  orchards 
overflowed  with  an  abundance  of  magnificent  fruit 
And  there  we  allowed  them  all  to  rot.  We  had  a 
doctor  in  those  days,  a  fine  old  fellow,  who,  when 
the  danger  was  at  its  height,  went  fearlessly  from 
house  to  house.  He  had  wliite  hair,  rosy  cheeks, 
and  a  slim,  erect  figure,  and  was  always  cracking 
jokes  with  us.  He  used  to  say :  "  No  funk,  no  risk 
of  Death !  "  and  would  pick  up  the  beautiful  golden 
melons  before  our  eyes  and  eat  them  with  the  best 
appetite  in  the  world,  and  he  took  no  harm  from 
them,  for  he  feared  no  danger.  You  had  only  to  live 
regularly  and  trust  in  God,  he  used  to  say.  He 
would  laugh  when  we  asked  him :  "  Is  it  true  that 
the  air  is  full  of  tiny  scarce  visible  insects,  the  in- 
haling of  which  brings  about  the  disease?  "  "  If  you 
believe  in  these  insects  you  had  better  keep  your 
mouths  shut  lest  they  fly  into  them  while  you  are 
talking,"  he  would  say.  And  subsequently  when 
we  heard  the  drowsy  monotonous  tolling  of  the  bells 
and  the  funeral  dirges  sung  day  after  day,  morning 
and  evening,  beneath  our  windows,  and  saw  orphans 
following  in  the  track  of  the  lumbering  corpse- 
carts;    when  they  told  us  that  everyone  in   the 


THE   PLAGUE.  179 

neighbotiring  houses  had  died  off  in  two  days,  and 
we  saw  all  the  windows  of  the  house  opposite  fast- 
closed,  and  not  a  soul  looking  through  them;  at 
such  a  time  it  was  good  to  fold  one's  hands  in 
prayer  and  reflect  that  we  were  still  all  together, 
and  that  not  one  of  us  had  been  taken  away,  but 
God  had  preserved  us  from  all  calamity.  Our  hope 
was  weak,  for  there  was  no  foundation  for  it  to 
build  upon,  but  our  faith  was  strong  and  all- 
sufficing. 

Such  is  the  sole  impression  I  have  retained  of 
that  memorable  year. 

Ah!  elsewhere  that  same  year  was  not  content 
with  embroidering  its  mourning  robe  with  mere 
tears,  it  used  blood  also,  and  taught  the  land  a  two- 
fold lesson  at  a  heavy  cost 


The  circular  letters  issued  by  the  comity  authori- 
ties flew  from  village  to  village,  informing  the  local 
sages  of  the  approaching  peril  of  which  even  the 
well-formed  knew  no  more  than  they  had  known 
ten  years  before,  no  more  than  they  actually  know 
now. 

The  local  sages,  that  is  to  say  the  justices  and  the 
schoolmasters,  were  directed  to  explain  to  the 
ignorant  people  the  contents  of  these  circular 
letters. 

Explain  indeed!  Men  whose  own  knowledge 
was  of  the  most  elementary  description,  men  who 
looked  for  supernatural  causes  in  the  most  natural 


x8o  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

phenomeaia,  were  to  explain  what  was  still  a  pro- 
found mystery  to  the  collective  wisdom  of  the  world  I 

Mr.  Kord6,  whom  we  remember  as  one  of  the  two 
schoolmasters  of  Hetfalu,  accordingly,  by  dint  of 
bellowing,  gathered  all  his  subjects  around  him. 
It  was  the  day  before  breaking  up  for  the  hoHdays, 
and  drawing  from  his  pocket  the  folded  and 
corded  vellimi  document,  he  gave  them  to  understand 
that  he  was  going  to  explain  it  to  them.  They,  in 
their  turn,  were  to  explain  it  when  they  got  home 
to  their  dear  parents. 

"  Blockheads ! "  this  was  his  usual  mode  of 
addressing  his  jeunesse  doree — "blockheads!  you 
see  here  before  you  the  letter  patent  of  His 
Honour,  the  magistrate,  signifying  that  all  the 
schools  are  to  be  shut  up,  and  the  whole  village  is 
to  be  on  the  alert,  inasmuch  as  a  terrible  disease, 
called  the  *  morbus,'  is  about  to  enter  the  kingdom. 
When  the  morbus  lays  hold  of  anybody  the  indi- 
vidual in  question  has  not  even  time  to  look  over 
his  shoulder,  but  falls  down  dead  on  the  spot 
Down  he  drops,  and  there  he  stays. 

"  The  morbus  begins  in  this  way.  The  gall  over- 
flows into  the  vital  essences,  and  becomes  gall-fever 
or  cholera,  consequently  take  care  you  don't  aggra- 
yate  me. 

**  Moreover,  the  morbus  in  question  is  to  be  found 
inside  this  year's  melons,  apricots,  and  all  sorts  of 
fruit;  so  every  man  jack  of  you  who  doesn't  want 
to  be  a  dead  'un  mustn't  go  guzzling  berries  and 
such  like," 


THE  PLAGUE.  i8i 

Here  a  couple  of  Scythians  from  the  northern 
counties  began  squabbling  loudly  on  the  back 
benches. 

"Hie,  there,  you  blockhead!  Mike  Turlyik,  I 
know  it  is  you — ^what  was  I  talking  about?  " 

"You  was  saying  that — ^that — that — ^no  more 
apricots  were  to  be  sneaked  from  his  reverence's 
garden," 

"  Come  out  here,  my  son,  wilt  thou  ?  IVe  a  word 
to  say  in  thine  ear !  " 

And  he  leathered  the  unfortunate  Mike  soundly. 
Yet  the  lad  after  all  had  reasoned  not  illogically, 
for  he  had  started  from  the  assumption  that  the 
prohibition  in  question  had  been  inserted  in  the 
letter  patent  for  the  express  purpose  of  scaring  the 
people  away  from  the  priest's  orchard,  his  reverence 
being  the  only  man  in  the  village  who  cultivated 
fruit-trees. 

"And  now  let  us  return  to  the  matter  in  hand 
Listen  now,  you  addlepates! 

"  Bathing,  too,  is  very  dangerous  just  now,  and, 
in  fact,  every  sort  of  washing  with  cold  water,  for 
thereby  the  vital  essence  within  a  man  is  easily  up- 
set On  the  other  hand,  brandy-drinking  is  very 
wholesome,  for  thereby  the  volume  of  spiritual 
essence  in  man  is  at  any  rate  increased.  Work  on 
an  empty  stomach  is  also  dangerous,  as  also  are 
too  much  reflection  and  brain-racking.  On  the 
other  hand  the  eating  of  roast  meat  and  as 
little  walking  about  in  the  sun  as  possible  are  very 
profitable." 


<X8«  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

This  passage  delighted  the  addlepates  immensely. 

**  Inasmuch,  however,  as  it  is  quite  possible  that 
a  man  from  a  neighbouring  village  might  ezisily 
convey  to  us  in  his  jacket  or  knapsack  this  morbus^ 
which,  by  the  way,  is  as  catching  as  sheep-ticks; 
therefore  it  is  ordered  that  nobody  is  to  quit  his 
own  village,  either  by  cart  or  on  foot,  and  no 
stranger  is  to  be  admitted  from  without  Should 
anyone  require,  however,  to  pass  through  the  district, 
he  must  first  of  all  be  locked  securely  in  a  cowshed 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  village,  and  there  his 
cbthes  must  be  well  smoked  ('  fumigated  *  they  call 
it),  eind  he  himself  well  doused  in  a  ducking-tub,  and 
if  he  has  any  coin  about  him  it  must  be  rubbed  with 
ashes,  which  life-imperilling  occupation  will  be  duly 
attended  to  by  the  local  gipsies." 

After  a  pause,  Mr.  Korde  resumed  his  learned 
instructions  as  follows : 

"If,  nevertheless,  anyone,  despite  these  wise 
regulations,  should  catch  the  morbus,  there  is  only 
one  antidote,  the  name  whereof  is  Vismuthimi. 
Vismuthum,  vismuthi,  neuter  gender,  second  deden- 
sion.  In  Hungarian  viszmuta,  in  Slovak  visnm- 
thium,  in  EngHsh  bismuth." 

At  this  point  the  worthy  preceptor  was  overcome 
by  a  violent  fit  of  coughing,  for  he  was  now  bound 
by  his  directions  to  explain  the  properties  of  this 
mysterious  substance  whose  name  he  himself  had 
JBBt  that  moment  learnt  for  the  first  time  from  his 
letter  patent 

"  Well,  now  I  listen  all  of  you,  for  I  shall  examixw 


THE   PLAGUE.  183 

you  presently  upon  all  that  I  have  been  telling  you. 
Vismuthum  is  a  powder,  or  rather  a  fluid,  or  per- 
haps 'twere  better  to  say  a  powder  of  a — a  quite 
indefinable  colour.  It  is  prepared  in  all  sorts  of 
ways,  and  has  no  particular  odour,  and  in  substance 
much  resembles  piskotum.*  Everyone  who  par- 
takes of  it  instantly  becomes  quite  well  again.  First 
of  all  it  is  to  be  taken  in  a  coffee  spoon  (his  reverence 
will  supply  the  spoon  gratis),  and  then,  if  that  has 
no  effect,  in  a  tablespoon.  If  that  also  has  no  effect, 
then  two  tablespoons  must  be  taken,  and  so  on  in 
increasing  doses,  until  the  morbus  leaves  the  patient 
altogether.  It  is  to  be  had  in  the  apothecary's  shop 
at  Kassa,  so  whoever  does  not  go  and  get  some  has 
only  himself  to  blame  if  he  dies.  Poor  men  will 
receive  it  gratis  from  Dr.  Sarkantyus,  and  those  who 
won't  take  it  willingly  will  have  it  crammed  down 
their  throats  by  force,  and  it  will  be  also  sprinkled 
in  aU  the  wells  of  drinking  water  that  the  people 
may  get  some  of  it  that  way.  It  will  therefore  be 
much  better  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  vismuthtun 
in  a  friendly  manner,  than  go  to  the  devil  one  way 
or  other  for  not  taking  it" 

The  young  people  appreciated  this  last  witticism 
and  roared  with  laughter. 

One  of  Mr.  Korde's  cubs  took  the  liberty,  how- 
ever, of  stretching  out  two  fingers,  which  signified 
that  he  had  a  question  to  ask. 

•  Well,  Slipik,  out  with  itl  *" 

•  Antimony, 


94y|  THE   DAY   OF   WRATH. 

•Mr.  Rector,  is  the  stuff  sweetish  like?  " 

*Aiine!  have  I  not  told  you  what  it  was?  You 
have  not  been  attending ;  hold  out  your  paw  1  * 

The  urchin  got  a  smart  rap  on  the  palm  of  his 
band  with  the  ruler. 

"  And  now  the  other !  ** 

And  so  both  hands  smarted  instead  of  his  ears. 

"  And  now,  Guszti  Klimpa,  stand  out  and  repeat 
to  these  blockheads  what  I  have  been  saying." 

Guszti  Klimpa  was  the  head  boy,  because  his 
father  rented  the  village  pot-house,  and  he  himself 
wore  the  best  jacket  of  them  all,  so  he  was  the 
master's  favourite  The  urchin  hastily  pocketed  the 
pen-knife  with  which  he  had  hitherto  been  carving 
his  bench,  blushed  deeply  in  his  embarrassment, 
and  his  eyes  almost  started  from  his  head  in  his 
endeavours  to  find  an  answer  to  the  question  put  to 
him. 

"  Well,  my  son,  come,  what  did  I  say  now  ?  " 

The  lad  took  a  plunge  at  random. 

"Nixnus  is  a  fluid  which  becomes  a  powder, 
which  can  be  made  from  anything,  and  very  much 
resembles  a  piskota."* 

"  Bene^  proestanter^  eminentissime.  Only  not  pis- 
kota  hxxt  piskotum\\  not  feminine,  you  know,  but 
neuter  gender,  second  declension." 

So  Guszti  Klimpa  returned  to  his  seat  very  well 
satisfied  with  himself. 

"  Moreover,  this  I  must  add — ^and  mind  you  tell 

•  Biscuit.  f  Antimony. 


THE   PLAGUK  1S5 

it  to  your  parents  when  you  get  home — that  nothing 
is  so  good  in  these  dangerous  times  as  to  drink  one 
glass  of  brandy  in  the  early  morning  on  an  empty 
stomach,  another  in  the  afternoon,  a  third  on  lying 
down,  and  as  many  times  more  as  one  feels  einy 
foreign  substance  in  the  stomach.  That  is  the  best 
remedy  of  alL  And,  Guszti  Klimpa!  mind  you 
don't  forget  to  inform  your  dear  father  that  your 
schoolmaster,  the  rector,  is  very  much  afraid  of  the 
morbus,  and  that  my  spirit  flask  is  still  with  you.** 

Guszti  Klimpa's  face  assumed  a  pious  expression' 
at  "this  reminder,  and  shoving  beneath  his  hymn- 
book  the  shaft  of  his  quill  pen  out  of  which  he  was 
manufacturing  a  pocket  pistol,  he  promised  to 
deliver  the  message  at  home. 

"  And  now  let  us  sing  a  hymn  and  say  a  prayer. 
And  after  that  there  will  be  no  more  school  till  the 
morbus  has  departed." 

Great  was  the  joy  of  the  promising  youths  at 
these  words.  Guszti  Klimpa  fired  off  his  impro- 
vised pistol  underneath  the  bench,  and  the  pellet 
hit  Mr.  Korde  full  on  the  nose,  whereupon  he  well 
trounced  J6ska  Slipik,  though  he  knew  very  well 
that  he  was  not  the  culprit 

Whilst  the  wrongfully  flogged  urchin  was  still 
howling,  the  others  began  singing  the  hymn.  So 
long  as  the  low  notes  predominated  Mr.  Kord^'s 
voice  was  done  audible,  but  at  the  crescendoes  the 
youthful  believers  had  it  all  their  own  way,  and 
shrieked  till  the  windows  rattled,  the  rector  beat- 
ing time  the  while  by  lightly  tapping  the  heads  of 


x86  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH, 

the  Faithful  with  his  ruler  whenever  they  departed 
from  the  impracticable  melody. 

After  tliat,  Guszti  Klimpa  grappled  with  a  prayer, 
and  recited  the  morning  devotions  instead  of  the 
crvening  devotions  by  mistake,  a  lapse  of  which  the 
lector,  however,  took  no  notice.  The  Amen  was 
XM>  sooner  uttered  than  the  yoxmgsters,  with  a  wild 
yeil,  made  a  solid  rush  for  the  door,  bearing  in 
mind  Mr.  Korde's  laudable  habit  on  such  occasions 
of  lambing  it  into  the  hinder  most  by  way  of  prc^- 
testing  against  the  general  uproar.  When  the  whole 
dass  was  fairly  out  in  the  street  again,  its  delight 
at  being  released  from  school  for  some  time  to  come 
was  too  much  for  it,  and  in  the  exuberance  of  its 
high  spirits  it  fell  tooth  and  nail  upon  the  Lutheran 
lads  who  were  playing  at  ball  in  front  of  their  own 
dmrch,  broke  a  couple  of  their  heads,  scribbled: 
**Vivat  vacatio"  on  the  walls  of  every  house  they 
came  to,  slammed  to  every  gate  they  passed,  and 
loused  every  dog  in  the  village  to  fury  pitch — ^thus 
giving  the  whole  world  to  imderstand  that  the 
rector,  Mr.  Michael  Korde,  had  given  his  promis- 
ing pupils  an  extraordinary  holiday,  because  the 
morbus  was  coming,  and  it  was  not  good  for  people 
to  congregate  together  at  such  times. 


And  now  the  village  ancients  and  the  women 
were  trooping  home  from  chiurch. 

Every  face  was  dominated  by  an  expression  of 
dumb  terror. 


THE  PLAGUE.  i8y 

In  the  church  the  priest  also  had  read  aloud  the 
letter  from  the  county  authorities,  adding  a  short 
discourse  of  his  own  to  the  effect  that  a  calm  con- 
fidence in  the  providence  of  God  and  a  clear 
Christian  conscience  were  worth  far  more  than  all 
the  medicaments,  cordons,  and  bismuth  powder  in 
the  world. 

"  We  are  all,  however,  in  the  hands  of  God,"  he 
laid,  "and  if  we  live  well  we  shall  die  well  A 
righteous  man  need  never  fear  Death." 

The  old  hag,  "the  death-bird,"  was  crouching 
there  on  the  church  steps  with  a  bundle  of  healing 
herbs  in  her  lap,  and  her  crutch  under  her  armpits, 
and  with  her  chin  resting  on  her  knee.  She  kept 
counting  all  who  came  out  of  the  church:  "One! 
two !  three ! "  Every  time  she  came  to  three  she 
began  all  over  again — every  third  person  was 
superfluous. 

And  now  all  had  gone,  only  she  remained  behind, 
she  and  shaggy  Hanak,  the  bellringer. 

After  the  departure  of  the  people  a  little  white 
dog  came  running  along,  and,  as  often  happens^ 
peeped  into  the  church. 

"  Clear  out  of  that !  "  cried  the  sexton,  flingii^ 
the  large  church  door  key  after  him. 

The  aged  sybil  lifted  a  skinny  finger  and  shook  it 
menacingly  at  the  sexton. 

"  Hanak !  shaggy  Hanak !  Why  dost  thou  drive 
away  the  dog?  I  tell  thee,  and  I  tell  thee  the  truth, 
that  it  were  better  for  thee,  aye !  and  for  others  also, 
if  they  could  be  as  such  dc^s  instead  of  the  two- 


188  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

l^ged  beasts  they  really  are,  for  ere  long  we  shall 
be  in  a  world  where  not  the  voice  of  thy  bell,  but 
the  howling  of  dogs  will  accompany  the  dead  to 
their  last  resting-place.  Therefore  trouble  not  thy- 
self about  the  dogs,  Handk,  shaggy  Handk." 

The  bellringer  durst  not  reply.  He  closed  the 
chturdi  door  softly,  got  out  of  the  woman's  way, 
and  while  he  hastened  off,  it  seemed  to  him  as  if 
his  head  was  dizzy  from  some  cause  or  othei;  and 
his  feet  were  tottering  beneath  him. 

When  he  handed  the  church  door  key  over  to  the 
priest,  his  reverence  gave  him  to  understand  that  by 
order  of  the  authorities  the  church,  bells  were  not 
to  be  tolled  for  the  dead  during  the  outbreak  of  the 
ptdLgae  to  avoid  alarming  the  people. 

As  he  went  home  that  evening  shaggy  Handle's 
head  waggled  from  side  to  side,  as  if  every  hair  upon 
it  was  a  heavy  debt  As  he  went  along  he  heard 
an  the  dogs  howling.  Well,  henceforth  tAey  vyrould 
have  to  follow  the  dead  to  their  graves. 

After  that  Hanak  had  not  the  heart  to  go  home, 
but  sought  comfort  in  the  p>ot-house,  where  the 
village  sages  were  already  sitting  in  council  together 
and  discussing  the  problems  of  the  Futuxa 


CHAPTER  X 

A  LEADER  OF  THE  PEOPLE, 

The  other  rector,  Mr.  Thomas  Bodza,  had  read  a 
lot  of  things  in  the  course  of  his  life. 

He  had  read  the  history  of  Themistocles  who, 
with  a  handful  of  Greeks,  converted  milUons  of 
Persians  into  rubbish  heaps;  he  had  read  of  the 
exploits  of  the  valiant  Marahas,  who,  when  one  of 
their  warriors  flung  his  sandal  into  the  air  and  uttered 
thrice  the  word :  "  Marha,  Marha,  Marha !  "  swept 
the  Roman  legions  from  the  face  of  Pannonia ;  he 
had  learnt  from  the  Spanish  historian  all  about 
Ferdinand  VII.,  who  chased  the  Moors  from  the 
Alhambra  where  they  had  held  sway  for  htmdreds 
of  years;  he  had  read  of  the  Scythian  Bertezena, 
who,  starting  in  life  as  a  simple  smith  had  delivered 
his  race  from  the  grinding  yoke  of  the  Geougs  ;— 
and  finally  he  had  not  only  read  but  learnt  by  heart 
all  the  great  works  of  our  savcints  in  which  it  is 
demonstrated  with  the  most  exact  scholarship  and 
the  most  inflexible  logic,  that  the  Greeks,  the 
Marahas,  the  Spaniards,  the  Scythians,  and,  in  fact, 
all   the  most  famous   nations   of   the   earth   have 


190  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

Qiig^ated  from  a  single  powerful  race  which  num- 
bers among  its  chiefest  branches,  such  noble  nations 
as  the  Russians,  the  Poles,  the  Bohemians,  and  the 
Croats,  &c,  inasmuch  as  the  languages  of  all  these 
various  nations  are  so  crammed  with  original 
Slavonic  words,  that  if  these  words  were  suddenly 
demanded  back  from  them  by  their  rightful  owners, 
any  sort  of  verbal  intercourse  amongst  the  nations 
in  question  would  be  henceforth  impossible. 

All  this  Thomas  Bodza  had  read  and  crammed 
into  his  head.  Once  he  had  even  written  a  disserta^- 
tion  in  which,  with  astonishing  profundity  and 
ingenuity,  he  had  demonstrated  the  striking  resem- 
blance and  the  identical  significance  of  the  Greek 
ov  and  the  Slavonic  /w^/,  which  dissertation  was 
received  with  general  applause  in  the  local  mutual 
improvement  society  where  he  recited  it 

In  his  library  were  to  be  foimd  all  those  learned 
tomes  which  do  our  dear  native  land  the  honour  of 
only  noticing  her  in  order  to  disparage  her,  attribu- 
ting inter  alia  a  Slavonic  origin  to  all  our  chief 
towns,  and  forcing  upon  us  the  crushing  conviction 
that  we  Hungarians  cannot  even  call  a  single  water- 
course our  own,  inasmuch  as  all  our  rivers  rise 
in  other  countries— certainly  a  most  depressing, 
poverty-stricken  state  of  things,  especially  as  regards 
our  cattle  dealers  and  boatmen,  who,  of  course,  can 
do  so  little  without  water. 

After  long-continued  scientific  investigations, 
materially  assisted  by  a  vigorous  imagination, 
Thomas  Bodza  had  constructed  a  map  of  his  own^ 


A  LEADER  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  191 

m  which  the  various  countries  appeared  in  a  shape 
diverging  essentially  from  that  which  they  actually 
occupy,  and  indeed  only  the  fig^e  of  the  virg^ 
Europa,  and  the  outlines  of  the  unchangeable 
water-courses  made  one  suspect  that  it  was  a  repre- 
sentation of  the  old  world  at  aJL  Not  only  did  the 
boundaries  of  the  realm  suffer  strange  permutations, 
but  the  classical  termination  "  grad,"*  imusual  and 
unnatural  as  it  seemed  to  all  but  the  initiated,  was 
tacked  on  pretty  frequently  to  the  names  of  purely 
Hungarian  towns  both  small  and  great ;  and  there 
was  cdso  noticeable  this  slight  and  fanciful  deviation 
from  the  strict  truth,  to  wit,  that  whereas  cities  of 
unappropriatable  Asiatic  origin  like  Debreczen, 
Kecskemet,  Nagy-Koros,  and  others,  appeared 
degraded  into  insignificant  villages  by  being  marked 
with  tiny  points,  every  little  twopenny-halfpenny 
Slavonic  village  in  the  Carpathians  was  magnified 
into  a  cathedral  city,  or  starred  to  represent  a  for- 
midable fortress. 

The  worthy  paedagogue  used  to  sit  brooding  over 
this  map  for  hours.  He  would  draw  his  boimdaries 
with  a  pair  of  compasses,  construct  imaginary  roads 
from  town  to  town,  and  reconstruct  a  fortress  from 
the  imposing  ruins  in  the  bed  of  the  River  Waag. 
Nay,  he  even  ventured  upon  the  audacious  experi- 
ment of  cutting  through  the  mountain  chain  separa- 
ting the  River  Hemdd  from  the  River  Poprad,  and 
uniting  these  two  rivers  (in  a  state  of  nature  they 

*  The  Slavonic  word  for  **  town,"  thus  Constantinople  is  Tsa^rad. 


192  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

flow  in  diametrically  opposite  directions)  into  one 
broad  continuous  water-course,  thus  bringing  to- 
gether all  the  various  branches  of  that  scattered 
family  of  kindred  nations  which  dwells  between  the 
White  Sea  and  the  Black. 

In  those  days  very  little  was  known  among  us  of 
railways  beyond  the  rumour  (the  newspapers 
mentioned  it  as  a  sort  of  curiosity)  that  a  certain 
Englishman,  called  William  Griffiths,  wanted  to 
make  a  wheel-track  of  iron.  Thomas  Bodza's  idea 
therefore  of  a  continuous  European  waterway  almost 
deserved  to  be  called  sublime. 

Such  exaltation  is  innocent  enough  in  itself.  It 
is  found,  more  or  less,  in  every  race,  and  is  especially 
vigorous  wherever  an  impoverished,  orphaned  stock 
is  aware  of  the  existence  of  a  powerful,  dominating, 
gigantic  kinsman  beyond  a  moimtain  range.*  Un- 
fortunately, however,  this  exaltation  did  not  remain 
an  empty  pK>etical  dream  in  the  bosom  of  our 
village  paedaigogue. 

Even  as  a  student  his  heart  was  full  of  a  bitter 
hatred  of  everything  Hungarian.  He  went  to  school 
at  Pressburg,  that  peculiar  town  where  the  traders 
are  German,  the  gentry  Himgarian,  and  the  poor 
Slavonic.  The  traders  pick  holes  in  the  gentry  and 
the  poor  folks  hate  them  both.  He  saw  the  heady 
young  squires  of  the  Alfdld'\  idle  away  their  time 
at  school  in  unedifying  contrast  to  the  diligent 

•  B^,i  The  Slovaks  in  north  Hungary,  who  know  that  Russia 
lies  beyond  the  Carpathians, 
t  The  great  Hungarian  plain. 


A  LEADER  OF  THE  PEOPLE.    193 

sober  conduct  of  himself  and  his  friends,  and  yet 
the  masters  treated  them  with  the  greatest  distinc- 
tion. Some  of  them  scarcely  attended  the  lectures 
at  all,  and  yet  they  sat  on  the  front  benches.  They 
were  able  to  have  private  lessons,  and  thus  easily 
outstripped  the  poor  scholars  who  had  to  slave  night 
and  day  to  keep  pace  with  them.  They  marched 
about  in  fine  clothes  and  got  their  poorer  fellow- 
students  to  copy  out  their  exercises  for  them.  At  the 
public  examinations  they  declaimed  Hungarian 
verses  with  such  emphcisis,  with  such  a  fire  of  en- 
thusiasm, that  even  that  portion  of  the  audience 
which  did  not  understand  a  word  of  their  fulmina- 
ting periods  cheered  them  vociferously,  whereas  he, 
Thomas  Bodza,  recited  the  affected,  pedestrian, 
poetic  effusions  of  the  Slavonic  School  of  self- 
improvement  without  the  slightest  effect.  Even  in 
the  rude  arena  of  material  strength  the  Asiatic  race 
showed  a  determination  to  be  paramount  The 
youths  of  the  Alf'dld  were  the  better  wrestlers, 
more  skilful  in  gymnastic  exercises,  and  in  all  serious 
encoimters  asserted  themselves  with  more  self- 
confidence  and  greater  enthusiasm;  they  boasted 
ostentatiously  of  their  nationality,  and  scornfully 
looked  down  upon  his. 

And  then,  too,  during  the  sessions  of  the  Diet, 
when  the  haughty  Hungarian  gentry  flocked  to  the 
capital  from  every  qucirter  of  the  realm  with  extra- 
ordinary pomp  cind  splendour,  a  new  and  clamorous 
life  filled  all  the  streets,  and  the  brilliant  visitors 
monopolized  every  yard  of  free  space.    It  frequently 

N 


194  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

happened,  in  the  evenings,  that  a  dozen  or  so  of 
high-spirited  jurati  would  join  hand  to  hand, 
occupy  the  whole  road,  and  squeeze  against  the  wall 
any  shabby-coated  alienist  who  happened  to  come 
in  their  way.  The  poor  devil  might  be  carrying 
Ihome  his  meagre  jusculum*  under  his  mantle  in  a 
coarse  unvarnished  pot,  with  a  piece  of  brown  bread 
stuck  into  it,  revolving  in  his  mind  the  whole  time 
the  story  of  another  poor  scholar  in  days  gone  by 
who,  once  upon  a  time,  used,  in  the  same  way,  to 
carry  home  his  humble  mess  of  pottage  in  jtwt 
such  another  coarse  earthenware  pot,  and  who^ 
nevertheless,  came  to  be  one  of  the  princes,  one  of 
the  great  men  of  Hungary,  with  a  great  big  coat 
of  arms,  and  castles  to  dwell  in.  He  forgot,  however, 
to  reflect  that  he,  with  whom  he  compsured  his  own 
fate,  was  gifted  at  the  outset  with  intellect  and 
virile  courage,  qualities  with  which  he  himself  had 
only  been  very  modestly  equipped  by  nature ;  their 
common  misery  in  early  life  was  the  sole  point  of 
resemblance  between  them. 

These  first  bitter  impressions  never  left  his  mind. 
He  registered  the  disfavour  of  fortune  and  the 
fruits  of  his  own  limited  capacity  among  the  griev- 
ances of  the  oppressed  nationality  to  which  he 
belonged  Years  of  want,  his  little  dilapidated 
dwelling — granted  him  in  his  capacity  of  village 
teacher  but  shoved  away  into  an  obscure  comer  of 
H6tfalu — ^his  meagre  barley-bread,  his  sordid  irock- 

*  PotUgCb 


A  LEADER  OF  THE  PEOPLK  195 

coat — all  these  things  aggravated  the  anguish  of 
his  souL 

His  occasional  intercourse  with  the  lord  of  the 
manor,  the  arrogant  and  pretentious  H6tfalusy,  was 
not  calculated  to  reconcile  him  with  his  destiny. 
Hetfalusy  regarded  as  a  profitless  loafer  every  man 
who  did  not  seek  his  bread  with  spade  and  hoe, 
unless,  of  course,  he  happened  to  be  a  gentleman  by 
birth.  He  applied  this  theory  to  the  schoolmaster 
race  especially,  whom  he  conceived  to  have  been 
invented  for  the  express  purpose  of  eternally  hound- 
ing on  the  common  folks  against  their  lawful 
masters,  the  gentry.  As  if  the  world  could  not  go 
on  comfortably  without  the  peasant  learning  his 
letters !  What  he  heard  in  church  was  quite  enough 
for  him  surely!  On  one  occasion,  when  mention 
was  made  in  his  presence  of  a  village  shepherd  who 
had  forged  a  bank-note,  he  observed  that  if  the 
fellow  had  not  learnt  to  write  he  would  never  have 
gone  astray.  The  national  school  teachers,  he  said, 
were  the  natural  attorneys  of  the  agricultural  popu- 
lation as  against  the  landlords.  And  H6tfalusy 
gave  practical  expression  to  his  belief  whenever  he 
had  the  chance.  The  com  he  was  bound  to  supply 
to  the  schoolmaster  was  always  measured  out  to 
him  from  the  bottom  of  the  sieve;  he  seized  the 
courtyard  of  the  school  for  his  threshers,  so  that 
during  school-time  not  a  word  of  the  lessons  could 
be  heard  for  the  racket;  he  never  repaired  the 
building  set  apart  for  the  cultivation  of  the  muses, 
but    looked    on   while    the    schoolmaster    himself 


t96  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

patched  up  the  holes  in  his  wall  with  balls  of  clay 
borrowed  from  his  own  garden,  and  re-thatched  the 
dilapidated  rush-roof  with  his  own  hand.  Fre- 
quently he  would  rate  the  schoolmaster  in  the  public 
thoroughfare,  in  the  presence  of  the  gaping  rustics> 
on  the  flimsiest  pretext,  and  bully  him  as  if  he  were 
the  lowest  of  his  menials. 

Thomas  Bodza  totted  up  all  these  outrages  on  the 
back  of  his  map,  and  whenever  he  was  immersed  in 
that  odd  production,  his  eyes  always  fastened  them- 
selves on  three  red  crosses  which  he  had  marked 
over  the  little  town  which  indicated  Hetfalu ;  and 
at  all  such  times  he  would  heave  a  deep  sigh,  as  if 
he  found  this  long  waiting  for  tlie  day  of  retribution 
almost  too  much  for  his  patience. 

For  that  a  day  of  retribution  would  arrive  sooner 
or  later  was  his  strong  belief. 

Frequently,  on  popular  festivals,  you  might  notice 
on  his  index-finger  a  rude  iron  ring  (the  handiwork 
of  a  blacksmith  rather  than  of  a  jeweller,  from  the 
look  of  it),  the  seal  of  which  was  engraved  with  the 
three  letters :  U.  S.  S.  On  such  occasions,  anyone 
observing  him  closely  could  have  remarked  that 
he  carried  his  head  higher  than  usual,  and  whenever 
he  was  asked  what  these  initial  letters  signified,  he 
would  simply  shrug  his  shoulders  and  say  that  he 
had  got  the  ring  from  a  comrade  in  his  student  days, 
and  really  did  not  know  w/iat  the  letters  meant 

Diuing  vacation  time  he  would  regularly  xmder- 
take  long  journeys  on  foot  into  distant  parts  of  the 
land,  traversing  no  end  of  mountains  and  valleys, 


A  LEADER   OF  THE   PEOPLE.  197 

and  always  returning  home  more  surlily  disposed 
towards  the  lord  of  the  manor  than  ever,  at  the 
same  time  dropping  mysterious  hints  in  the  presence 
of  his  confidants,  and  talking  darkly  of  old  expecta- 
tions being  realised,  of  extraordinary  forthcoming 
events,  and  of  important  changes  in  the  general 
order  of  things  here  below. 

Nowadays  people  will  scarcely  believe  that  there 
are  men  whose  whole  course  of  life  is  determined 
by  such  baseless  and  centrifugal  ideas.  Such  a 
species  of  human  ambition  is  certainly  a  great  rarity. 
It  resembles  that  cryptogram  which  goes  by  the 
name  of  "  star-ashes>"  whose  tremulous  spray-Kke 
masses  only  appear  in  rare  seasons  and  odd  places 
after  the  warm  summer  rains.  No  ordinary  soil 
is  good  enough  for  them. 

At  any  rate,  Mr.  Thomas  Bodza  would  have  acted 
more  wisely  if  he  had  endeavoured  to  inoculate 
the  minds  of  the  faithful  committed  to  his  charge 
with  a  little  reading,  a  little  writing,  and  some  slight 
knowledge  of  geography,  ethnology,  natural  history, 
and  fruit  cultivation,  instead  of  assembling  round 
him  all  the  loafers  of  the  district  in  the  pot-house, 
the  meeting-house,  at  the  hut  of  the  forest  rangers, 
or  in  some  imderground  cellar  outside  the  village;, 
and  there  putting  into  their  heads  ideas  which, 
interpreted  by  their  ignorant  fanaticism,  could  only 
be  productive  of  infinite  mischief. 

He  had  in  all  the  villages  round  about  personal 
acquaintances,  whom  he  was  wont  to  visit  succes- 
sively in  the  course  of  every  year,   and  whose 


198  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

fantastic  aspirations  he  constantly  did  his  best  to 
keep  aJive. 

And  at  last  the  opportunity  had  presented  itself 
for  beginning  his  great  work. 

Being  a  very  well-read  man  himself,  he  had  been 
the  first  to  learn  from  the  newspapers  of  the 
approach  of  that  dangerous  contagious  sickness,  the 
antidotes  against  which  were  still  unknown. 

Suddenly  a  mysterious  rumour  began  to  spread 
through  the  villages  that  a  powerful  foreign  nation 
was  about  to  invade  the  kingdom  for  the  purpose  of 
reconquering  for  the  descendants  of  the  Quadi  and 
the  Marahanas  the  Paimonian  provinces  that  they 
had  held  centuries  before. 

The  country  folk  could  see  for  themselves  the 
soldiery  hastening  on  its  way  through  the  land  to 
the  frontiers;  every  carter,  tramp,  and  traveller, 
brought  news  of  the  military  cordons  which  were 
drawn  far  and  wide,  from  town  to  town,  and  re- 
quired every  person  passing  to  and  fro  to  show 
his  passport,  a  very  unusual  institution  in  those  days. 

The  wiser  and  better  informed  persons  quieted 
the  whisperers  by  explaining  that  these  measures 
were  not  adopted  against  any  foreign  foe,  but  were 
simply  taken  to  prevent  the  spread  of  the  terrible 
pestilence  which  was  already  raging  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  kingdom. 

And  then  a  still  more  terrible  rumour  b^an  to 
raise  aloft  its  dragon-like  head- 
It  was  generally  said,  muttered,  whispered,  and 
at  last  proclaimed  aloud,  that  it  was  no  pestilence 


) 


A  LEADER  QF  THE  PEOPLE.    199 

the  people  had  to  fear,  but  that  the  gentry  them- 
selves who  had  resolved  to  exterminate  the  common- 
folks! 

They  had  determined  to  exterminate  them  in  an 
execrable  horrible  way — ^by  poison!  They  were 
casting  into  the  bamsi,  the  wells,  and  the  vats  of 
the  pot-house  a  deadly  poison  of  swift  operation — 
that  was  the  way  in  which  they  meant  to  destroy 
the  people. 

The  doctors,  apothecaries,  and  innkeepers  had  all 
been  corrupted ;  everyone  with  short  cropped  hair ; 
everyone  who  wore  a  clothe  coat  was  to  be  regarded 
as  an  enemy;  nobody  was  to  be  trusted! 

Who  spread  this  terrible  rumour? — spread  it 
fint  of  all  in  secret,  in  mysterious  whispers  from 
house  to  house,  but  presently  proclaimed  it  in  the 
public  thoroughfares  with  a  loud  voice  and  amidst 
the  clash  of  arms?  Ahi!  who  can  say?  So  much 
only  is  certain  that  the  tissues  of  this  network  of 
calumny  spread  far  and  wide.  It  is  possible  to  make 
human  weakness,  ignorance,  and  rustic  stupidity 
believe  almost  anything.  The  severity  of  the 
gentry  in  the  past  had,  no  doubt,  contributed  some- 
thing to  this  end ;  but  certainly  not  much,  for,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  common  people  raged  most 
furiously  against  those  of  the  gentry  who  had  done 
them  most  good;  it  was  their  benefactors  they 
treated  the  most  savagely.  And  then,  too,  the  usual 
vices  of  every  conmiunity,  the  love  of  loot,  the 
thirst  for  vengeance,  blind  fury,  anger  of  heart,  low 
greed,  were  so  many  additional  predisposing  causes 
of  the  horrors  that  followed. 


ioo  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

Yet  a  red  thread  ran  all  through  this  woof  of 
sorrow  and  mourning ;  "  blind  destiny,"  upon  whom 
man  so  cheerfully  casts  the  burden  of  his  sins,  had 
but  little  to  do  with  it  at  alL 


It  was  after  vespers,  and  Thomas  Bodza  was 
taking  a  walk  across  the  fields.  This  was  his  usual 
promenade.  Sometimes  he  went  as  far  as  the 
boimdaries  of  the  neighbouring  village  with  a  little 
book  imder  his  arm  which  he  perused  with  philo- 
sophic tranquility. 

It  was  the  works  of  Horace,  all  of  whose  verses  he 
knew  by  heart;  for,  inasmuch  as  it  had  once  been 
very  wisely  observed  in  his  presence  by  some  dis- 
tinguished scholar  that  no  other  human  lute-strum- 
mer  had  ever  sung  so  beautifully  and  so  grandly 
as  Horace,  it  thenceforth  became  a  point  of  honour 
with  Mr.  Bodza  to  read  nothing  else ;  so  he  never 
troubled  his  head  about  any  other  poet  or  poets, 
whatever  language  they  wrote  in.  He  made  an 
exception  in  favour  of  himself  indeed,  for  he  also 
had  his  moments  of  inspiration,  but  even  his  poems 
were  not  quite  as  good  as  those  of  Horace. 

And  now  also  he  was  reading  over  again  those 
lines  he  already  knew  so  well  He  had  sat  down 
to  rest  beneath  a  large  poplar  tree  on  a  big  roimd 
stone  that  had  often  served  him  as  a  seat  before, 
and  he  had  just  come  to  the  verses,  b^pnning  with 
the  beautiful  words: 


A  LEADER  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  toz 

•*  Nunc  est  bibendum  I    Nunc  pede  libero, 
Pulsando  tellus    ....•• 

when  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps  disturbed 
his  tranquil  enjoyment 

"  I  have  been  awaiting  you,  Ivan,"  said  the  master, 
thrusting  his  httle  book  beneath  his  arm  again,  but 
not  before  he  had  carefully  turned  down  the  leaf 
at  the  place  where  he  had  stopped  reading,  lest  he 
should  forget  where  he  had  left  off. 

"  I  could  only  get  off  lat&  The  old  man  would 
not  let  me  go  till  vespers." 

"  Ivan,  the  long  expected  signal  has  at  last  been 
given." 

**  How  so?  "  inquired  the  fellow,  amazed. 

"  It  has  been  announced  in  every  church,  in  every 
school ;  it  has  been  nailed  in  printed  form  on  every 
wall,  on  every  post  The  county  itself  has  given  the 
signal.  That  about  which  the  people  were  still  in 
doubt,  that  which  it  refused  to  believe,  it  believes 
now,  for  it  has  been  officially  proclaimed.  Death 
is  approaching,  and  woe  to  him  who  fears  it  I  fear 
it  not    Do  you?" 

The  fellow  shuddered,  yet  he  replied, 

"Not  I." 

"  The  plague  will  break  out  suddenly  in  varioua 
places,  and  wherever  there  are  dead  bodies,  there 
the  living  will  fly  to  arms,  and  seek  out  those  on 
whom  they  would  wreak  their  vengeance." 

Ivan's  face  turned  a  pale  green,  but  he  stifled  his 
inward  terror.  It  was  indeed  a  terrible  time  that 
was  coming. 


203  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

"  In  the  town  there  is  a  great  commotion,  but  that 
does  not  amount  to  much.  I  know  the  Hetfalu 
folks.  They  are  cowards  and  only  half  ours  so  far. 
There  aire  many  strangers,  many  traitors  among 
them.  Even  when  their  fury  is  at  the  highest  point, 
a  gentleman  with  silver  buttons  has  only  to  come 
among  them  with  honied  words,  or  a  heyduke  has 
only  to  appear  among  them  with  a  stick,  or,  at  the 
most,  a  couple  of  gamekeej>ers  with  loaded  muskets, 
and  they  scatter  and  fly  in  all  directions  like  startled 
game.  It  is  useless;  they  are  a  race  of  cowards. 
They  are  a  mongrel  set  after  all.  Yet  here  must  be 
our  starting  point  We  must  compel  the  folks  here 
to  tackle  to  the  business — a  petty  village  cannot  take 
the  initiative  without  some  stimulus  from  without." 

Ivan  listened  to  the  master's  words  admiringly; 
he  began  to  have  the  strong  conviction  that  Bodza 
possessed  the  qualifications  of  a  great  general. 

"  We  must  bring  in  the  folks  from  some  neighbour- 
ing village  just  to  stir  them  up.  The  people  of  the 
Tribo  district  are  best  suited  for  that  I  should  think 
Many  of  them  are  shepherds  and  herdsmen ;  men 
who  lie  in  the  fields,  who  can  be  brought  together 
in  the  night  time,  without  anyone  observing  it 
There  is  a  distillery  in  the  village  too,  and  he  who 
says  that  poison  is  concocted  there  does  not  lie  in 
the  least  In  general,  every  village  should  choose 
its  leaders  from  some  other  village,  so  that  the  local 
gentry  may  not  recognise  the  strange  faces.  Some 
men  are  easily  put  out  if  people,  when  they  begin 
to  supplicate,  call  them  by  their  name.*' 


A  LEADER  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  103 

Ivan  nodded  his  head  approvingly  at  these  sage 
suggestions.  Bodza  will  certainly  deserve  a  plume 
of  feathers  in  his  cap,  thought  he. 

"You  will  go  at  night  to  all  the  shepherds,  one 
after  the  other,  cind  bring  them  together  in  front  of 
the  lonely  inn  near  the  main-road.  I  will  not  tell 
}'ou  what  you  are  to  do,  you  must  be  guided  by  your 
own  common-sense.  You  must  not  all  remain  on 
the  high  road  however,  some  of  you  must  march 
towards  the  village." 

"The  best  hiding-place  will  be  the  headsman's 
dwelling." 

"  Will  not  the  Zuddr  woman  betray  us?  " 

"Not  till  she  has  burnt  down  the  castle  of 
Hetfalusy,  at  any  rate." 

"  Does  she  hate  them  then  as  much  as  her  mother, 
the  old  crone?" 

"  As  much !  far  more.    The  old  crone  is  all  talk.** 

"  I  have  often  heard  her  say  that  Hetfalusy  seized 
her  property,  but  one  can't  go  by  what  she  says. 
She  says  that  one  wing  of  the  castle  is  built  upcoi 
her  land." 

"  It  was  like  this.  Dame  Anna's  husband  was  a 
poor  gentleman  who  had  a  little  plot  of  land  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  castle,  which  was  the 
occasion  of  an  eternal  squabble  between  him  and  the 
lord  of  the  manor.  One  day,  Hetfalusy — ^you  know 
how  overbearing  these  great  gentlemen  are! — 
suddenly  fell  upon  this  poor  gentleman  as  he  was 
walking  on  this  httle  plot  of  land  of  his  and  gave 
him  a  sound  drubbing.     The  result  was  a  great  law- 


«o^  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

suit  Hetfalusy  questioned  Dudok/s  gentility,  and 
the  latter  coxild  not  make  good  his  claim  to  be 
regzurded  as  an  armiger.  He  lost  his  case  in  the 
local  coxirt,  and  the  suit  dragged  on  for  years.  The 
heavy  law  costs  soon  swallowed  up  all  the  appellant's 
means,  till  at  last  his  little  property  was  put  up  to 
auction  to  defray  his  expensea  Hetfalusy  acquired 
it  for  a  mere  song,  and  even  while  the  suit  was  pro- 
ceeding, he  revenged  himself  on  his  adversary  by 
building  a  new  wing  to  his  house  on  the  very  plot 
of  land  the  ownership  of  which  was  still  a  matter  of 
dispute.  Then  Dudoky  had  an  apoplectic  stroke 
which  carried  him  off.  His  orphan  daughter  took 
service  for  a  time  in  town.  Thence  she  got  into  a 
house  of  no  very  extraordinary  reputation  where 
somebody  suddenly  found  her  and  offered  her  his 
hand  in  marriage.  The  wretched  woman  agreed 
and  accepted  him.  And  who,  you  will  ask,  was  the 
luckless  creature  who  sought  out  a  wife  in  such 
a  place?  She  only  discovered  it  on  the  wedding- 
day.  It  was  the  headsman  of  Hetfalusy.  Thus 
Barbara  Dudoky  became  the  headsman's  bride. 
If  old  Dame  Anna  became  mad,  her  daughter 
was  partly  the  cause  of  it  This  also  they 
put  down  to  the  account  of  the  Hetfalusies. 
Since  then  Dame  Anna  has  frequently  sought 
opportunities  for  revenging  herself  on  the  Hetfalusy 
family — ^'the  snail-brood,'  as  Barbara  is  wont  to 
call  them.  The  old  night-owl  loves  to  torment  the 
souls  of  those  who  anger  her;  she  loves  to  fill 
the  ixmer  rooms  of  the  ^lendid  Hetfalusy  castle 


A  LEADER  OF  THE  PEOPLE.     205 

with  tears  and  groaning;  she  loves  to  see  her 
haughty  enemy  grow  grey  beneath  his  load  of  sin 
and  sorrow;  she  rejoices  at  the  spectacle  of  his 
shame  and  remorse  and  agony  of  mind,  for  the  old 
hag  knows  how  to  concoct  the  sort  of  venom  that 
corrodes  the  heart  Now  Barbara  is  not  like  that 
Whenever  that  woman  speaks  of  the  H6tfalusies, 
her  downy  lips  swell  out,  her  cheeks  flush,  her  black 
eyes  cast  forth  sparks  like  a  crackling  fire,  and  if  at 
such  times  she  has  a  knife  in  her  hands,  it  is  not  well 
to  approach  her.  She  longs  to  taste  the  blood  of 
her  enemy,  and  smack  her  lips  over  it ;  she  longs 
to  see  his  haughty  castle  in  a  blaze.  I  have  often 
heard  her  say  so,  and  then  add,  'After  that  they 
may  kill  me  if  they  like,  I  don't  care.'  Oh!  that  is 
indeed  a  terrible  woman,  you  ought  to  see  her." 

"  A  veritable  Libussa ! "  cried  Thomas  raptur- 
ously. "  If  we  win,  a  great  destiny  awaits  her.  Are 
you  in  love  with  her?  " 

"  Perhaps  it  is  more  correct  to  say  she  loves  me. 
I  am  very  comfortable  with  her,  anyway.  The  old 
inan  does  not  mind  a  bit" 

"  He  must  be  got  out  of  the  way." 

"We'U  take  care  of  that" 

"  All  the  exits  from  the  place  must  be  seized  after 
nightfall,  and  a  band  of  our  bravest  lads  must  make 
a  dash  for  the  town  hall.  Take  care  that  no  close- 
cropped  head*  escapes  from  the  place,  even  if  he 
be  dressed  as  a  peasant     The  rest  shall  be  my 


care.'* 


*  No  gentleman. 


3o6  THE    DAY    OF   WEATH. 

"All  right,  master." 

"Then  we  must  have  Mekipiros  ready  in  front 
of  the  forester's  hut" 

"Why  that,  master?  The  fellow  is  dumb  and 
foolish.  You  know  that  he  bit  out  his  tongue  under 
torture." 

"  So  much  the  better.  He  cannot  talk.  He  must 
have  brandy,  and  lots  of  it" 

"  When  he  drinks  brandy  he  becomes  like  a  wild 
beast  He  can  bite  and  scratch  now,  but  when  he 
is  drunk  you  can  make  him  worry  people  like  a 
dog." 

"That  is  just  what  we  want  There  may  be 
things  to  be  done  which  a  man  would  willingly  keep 
out  of  and  yet  have  done  all  the  same.  Do  you 
take  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  perfectly,  you  are  worthy  of  all  admiration, 
master.  We  can  let  loose  this  wild  beast  in  cases 
where  we  don't  want  our  own  hands  to  be  soiled. 
When  he  has  lots  of  brandy  he  would  shoot  his 
own  father  if  you  put  a  gun  in  his  hands.  And  if 
anything  goes  wrong  we  can  lay  all  the  blame  on 
him." 

The  master  regarded  his  pupil  with  a  look  <rf 
solemn  reproach. 

"And  you  are  capable,"  said  he,  "capable  of 
saying  in  cold  blood,  'if  anything  goes  wrong*? 
Ivan,  you  are  not  a  true  believer.  Ivan,  you  are  a 
worthless  fellow." 

The  youth  was  greatly  taken  aback  at  these 
words,  and  made  a  feeble  attempt  to  defend  himself. 


A  LEADER  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  207 

*  Ivan,  you  are  a  worthless  fellow,  I  say.  I  regret 
that  I  chose  you  out  to  take  part  in  this  great  work." 

Ivan  grew  angry. 

"  What !  you  chose  me !  Why,  it  was  I  who  chose 
you!     Am  I  not  the  head  of  the  conspiracy?  " 

"  And  am  I  not  its  soul  ?  " 

"What!  with  those  weak  pipe-stem  arms  of 
yours !  Look  at  my  arms !  Look !  "  said  Ivan, 
turning  up  his  shirt  sleeves  and  exposing  his  fleshy 
arms.  "  I  could  do  more  with  one  of  my  arms  than 
you  could  with  your  whole  body." 

"  And  yet  you  are  a  coward  if  you  ask,  shall  we 
succeed  ?  " 

"I'll  show  what  I  am  when  I  am  on  the  spot,** 
said  Ivan,  sticking  out  his  brawny  chest  and  boast- 
fully thumping  it  with  his  clenched  fist ;  at  that 
moment  he  wore  the  expression  of  a  savage  proud 
of  his  bones  and  sinews. 

"  Till  then,  however,  let  there  be  peace  between 
us,**  said  Bodza,  extending  his  dry  and  skinny  hand 
towards  Ivan  in  token  of  reconciliation,  and  Ivan 
squeezed  the  hand  with  aU  his  might,  not  so  much 
to  convince  the  master  of  the  firmness  of  his  friend- 
ship as  to  give  him  some  idea  of  the  expressive 
vigour  of  his  grip. 

Bodza  did  not  move  a  muscle  of  his  face  during 
this  violent  tension;  but,  all  at  once,  Ivan  began 
writhing,  his  features  contracted  with  pain,  and  he 
placed  one  hand  on  his  stomach. 

**  Well,  what  is  the  matter?  "  inquired  Bodza. 

The  fellow  doubled  up  with  pain. 


«o8  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

"  I  have  a  sudden  stitch  in  the  side." 

"  What !  is  that  all  ?  and  you  make  so  much  fusi 
over  it!  I  didn't  flinch  just  now,  when  you  nearly 
crushed  my  fingers,  did  I  ?  " 

"  But  this  is  horrible — such  spasms  " 

"Perchance,  Ivan,  you  too  have  been  poisoned" 

"  Oh,  don't  joke  like  that"  said  the  fellow  with 
a  pale  and  agitated  face. 

"Why  you  know  the  whole  thing  to  be  a 
fable." 

Ivan  gave  a  great  sigh  with  an  air  of  relief. 

"  It  has  gone  now.  I  felt  so  odd.  It  is  a  fable, 
of  course.    But  what  a  peculiar  pain  it  was !  " 

"Drive  the  idea  out  oi  your  head  and  swallow 
some  comforting  cordial  And  now  go  and  look 
after  our  confidants." 

Ivan  was  still  a  little  pale,  and  it  seemed  to  him 
as  if  the  master's  face  also  was  of  an  odd  ydlow 
colour. 

"  How  yellow  the  sky  is ! "  said  he,  looking  up, 
"  not  a  ^eck  of  blue  anywhere.  And  what  a  long 
black  doud  is  rising  up  from  the  horizon — ^just  like 
a  large  black  bird." 

"  Gape  not  at  the  sky,  Ivan,  but  make  haste  and 
have  everything  ready  against  the  night" 

"You  can  look  right  into  the  sun,  there's  not  a 
bit  of  light  in  it  when  it  goes  down,"  murmured  he 
—and  his  head  felt  strangely  dizzy. 

"  What  have  you  got  to  do  with  the  sky,  or  the 
sun,  or  the  douds?  "  inquired  the  master  sarcastic- 
ally. 


A  LEADER  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  209 

"Nothing,  I  suppose,  nor  with  what  is  beyond 
them  either.  Good  night,  my  master,"  he  cried 
after  a  pause,  and  turned  truculently  away. 

"  A  happy  and  peaceful  good  night ! "  said  the 
other  with  an  ironical  smile. 

"Pleasant  dreams." 

"And  a  joyful  awakening." 

And  with  that  they  parted  The  master  returned 
towards  the  village,  reading  the  immortal  verses  of 
Horace  all  the  way  along.  But  Ivan  hastened 
towards  the  lonely  forest  hut,  looking  up  from  time 
to  time  at  the  yellow  sky,  the  faded  sun^  and  the 
long  black  cloud,  and  then  glcincing  around  him 
horror-stricken,  to  perceive  that  he  cast  no  shadow 
either  before  or  behind. 

That  sombre  yellow  light,  how  odd  it  was! — 
and  then,  too,  that  brown,  copper-coloured  cloud, 
which  was  gradually  covering  the  whole  earth,  and 
enveloping  the  whole  horizon  with  its  broad  sluggish 
wings  like  some  huge  bat-like  monster  of  the  Nether 
World!  And  the  little  black  letters  in  the  master's 
open  book  seemed  to  be  dancing  together  in  long 
dizzying  row^  and  this  is  what  he  readt 

"...    Pallida  Mors 
Aequo  pede  pulsat 
Pauperum  tabemas 
Regomque  torres   •   •  •  ** 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  FIRST  SPARK. 

Maru  Kamienszka  talked  for  tlie  whole  of  a  long 
hour  with  the  General's  wife. 

She  told  her  all  she  knew  of  that  unhappy  family, 
whose  fate  was  bound  up  with  the  General's  by  such 
tragic  memories. 

She  had  learnt  to  know  the  disowned  and  rejected 
son  as  a  gallant  young  officer  in  Galicia,  and  the 
relations  which  had  sprung  up  between  them  were 
the  tenderest  imaginable. 

The  calamity  which  compelled  the  youth  to  fly 
had  profoundly  affected  but  not  overwhelmed  her,  for 
Maria,  with  that  virile  determination  which  has  so 
frequently  distinguished  the  Polish  women,  had 
followed  up  the  track  of  the  vanished  youth  step 
by  step,  and  when,  at  last,  she  had  discovered  him, 
she  had  devoted  all  the  ingenuity  of  a  loving  heart 
to  the  desperate  task  of  saving  him. 

The  enthusiastic  words  of  the  girl  had  electrified 
Comeha  Vertessy ;  indeed,  she,  the  gentler,  calmer 
of  the  two,  was  quite  cetrried  away  by  Maria's 
courage^  energy,  readiness  of  resource  and  impulsiw 


THE   FIRST  SPARK.  sii 

enthusiasm,  so  that  she  considered  the  most  fan- 
tastic projects  which  the  Polish  lady  elaborated  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment  with  the  rapidity  of  cloud 
formation,  as  perfectly  natural  and  feasible. 

They  agreed  between  them  that  old  Hetfalusy 
and  his  son-in-law  should  be  brought  together  to  the 
General's,  that  Cornelia,  at  the  same  time,  should 
present  to  them  the  child  who  was  believed  to  have 
perished,  Maria  xmdertaking  to  get  it  from  its 
adopted  father.  They  argued  that  the  scene  which 
would  ensue,  when  the  father  and  grandfather  recog- 
nised the  child  they  so  ardently  longed  to  see  could 
not  fail  to  touch  the  heart  of  the  General,  who  at 
the  same  instant,  when  the  grandfather  recovered 
his  grandchild,  would  complete  the  old  man's  joy 
by  presenting  him  with  his  son  also. 

The  dear  conspirators  had  calculated  all  con- 
tingencies, and  the  whole  thing  seemed  to  them  as 
feasible  as  it  was  romantic,  and  therefore  bound  to 
succeed  .  .  .  but  they  forgot  that  Fate  was,  after 
all,  mine  host,  and  that  the  reckoning  was  in  mine 
host's  own  hands  and  not  in  theirs. 

Nevertheless^  Maria,  dressed  in  her  masculine 
attire,  which  best  suited  her  present  purpose, 
moimted  her  nag  again,  and  hastened  ofiF  towards 
Hetfalu.  On  her  way  she  posted  a  letter  in  which 
she  instructed  old  Hetfalusy  to  get  into  his  carriage 
and  hasten  to  town  as  soon  as  possible,  she  herself 
meant  to  go  straight  to  the  headsman's  dwelling. 

It  was  already  late  when  she  turned  into  the 
main-road.     The  sun  had  already  sunk,  and  there 


3ZJ  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

was  in  the  sky  that  red  glare,  so  trying  to  the  eyes^ 
which  envelops  every  object  in  a  yellow  light  and 
obliterates  every  shadow.  In  the  western  sky  blood- 
red  rays,  like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel,  cut  up  the  oddly- 
coloured  sky  into  segments ;  while  in  the  opposite, 
eastern  firmament,  solar  rays  of  a  similar  description 
rose  brown  and  lofty,  like  the  horns  of  the  crown  of 
an  avenging  angeL 

There  was  a  sombre  air  of  homelessness  about  the 
whole  region.  Not  a  bird  was  flying  in  the  air,  no 
cattle  were  grazing  in  the  fields,  even  the  merry 
chirp  of  the  crickets  was  no  longer  to  be  heard  in 
the  wayside  ditches.  The  road  itself  was  overgrown 
with  grass  on  both  sides,  scarce  leaving  room  for  a 
little  winding  ribbon  of  a  track  in  the  centre,  and 
even  there  the  ruts,  which  the  last  luckless  cart  had 
left  behind  it,  were  hidden  by  weeds.  It  was  weeks 
since  anybody  had  passed  that  way,  for  every  village 
was  afraid  of  the  village  next  to  it,  every  man  avoided 
his  neighbour,  and  feared  to  look  upon  his  face. 

The  lanes  and  byeways  had  been  quite  aban- 
doned, they  were  only  distinguishable  by  the 
luxuriant  crop  of  weeds  which  covered  them — 
weeds  more  rampant  and  of  darker  colour  than  were 
to  be  found  elsewhere.  The  whole  land  looked 
just  as  it  used  to  look  in  the  olden  times  after  a 
Tartar  invasion. 

The  horse  trotted  cdong  all  alone,  before  and 
behind  him  there  was  no  trace  either  of  man  or 
beast,  the  rider  looked  round  about  her  with  a 
melancholy  eye. 


THE  FIRST  SPARK,  113 

Here  and  there  on  both  sides  of  the  road  crooked 
trees  were  tottering  to  their  fall  They  had  been 
stripped  bare  by  the  devastating  army  of  caterpillars, 
and  instead  of  their  beautiful  green  leaves  they  were 
clothed  with  the  rags  of  dusty  spider-webs ;  further 
away  the  fruitless  orchards  looked  as  if  they  had 
been  burnt  with  fire,  and,  stretching  to  the  horizon, 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  the  arid  corn-fields  had 
the  appearance  of  being  covered  with  i^othing  but 
scrappy  stubble. 

The  atmosphere  was  oppressive  and  lay  like  a 
stifling  weight  on  the  breast  of  man ;  and  if,  now  and 
then,  a  faint  breath  of  air  flitted  languidly  over  the 
country,  it  was  as  burning  hot  as  if  it  had  just  come 
out  of  the  mouth  of  a  blast-furnace,  and  only  in- 
creased the  exhausting  sensation  of  oppression. 

Then  slowly,  very  slowly,  it  began  to  grow  dark. 
There  was  a  long  black  stripe  all  along  the  edge 
of  the  sky,  which  gradually  bulged  out  into  a  sort 
of  black  veil,  and  as  the  infrequent  stars  twinkled 
forth  in  the  pallid  sky,  this  dark  veil  blotted  them 
out  one  by  one;  it  was  just  as  if  some  mighty 
spirit-hand  had  drawn  a  crape  curtain  across  a 
funeral  vault  bright  with  glittering  lamps. 

It  was  already  midnight  when  Maria  Kamienszka 
perceived  the  first  roadside  csdrda*  which,  according 
to  her  calculations,  lay  midway  between  the  county- 
town  and  Hetfalu.  In  the  midnight  gloom  and 
silence  it  was  easier  to  distinguish  distant  sounds 
than  to  clearly  recognise  near  objects 

•  Idq. 


3X4  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

It  seemed  to  Maria  as  if  she  heard  a  medley  of 
despairing  yells  and  savage  maledictions,  and  dimly 
discernible  masses  of  men  were  moving  up  and 
down  all  round  the  house. 

Instinctively  she  felt  for  the  pistols  in  her  saddle 
bow — there  they  were  in  their  proper  place. 

In  a  few  moments  she  was  close  up  to  the  house 
and  perceived  clearly  at  last,  with  a  tremor  of  horror, 
the  spectacle  that  had  long  been  engaging  her  atten- 
tion. 

Some  hundreds  of  peasants,  the  dregs  of  the 
agricultural  population,  were  swarming  in  and  out 
of  the  csdrda  door,  savagely  singing  and  shouting. 
Two  large  casks  had  been  planted  in  front  of  the 
house,  their  bottoms  had  been  stoved  in,  and  those 
of  the  mob  who  had  got  near  enough  were  ladling 
out  the  brandy  they  contained  in  their  hats.  Some 
of  these  gentlemen  could  only  keep  their  legs  at  all 
by  leaning  upon  the  object  nearest  to  them.  A 
white-bearded  Jew  had  been  tied  to  the  leg  of  a 
chair  placed  between  the  two  casks.  The  drunken 
mob  was  bestowing  most  of  its  attention  upon  him, 
and  pulling  out  his  beard  hair  by  hair  as  they 
cross-examined  him.  The  tortured  victim  was 
howling  horribly,  but  would  give  his  tormentors  no 
answer,  only  from  time  to  time  he  implored  them 
to  spare  his  innocent  daughter.  A  childish  shape, 
evidently  a  woman's,  was  lying  across  the  threshold, 
and  everyone  going  in  and  out  of  the  door  gave  it 
a  kick  as  he  passed  through.  Fortunately  she  felt 
nothing  more  now. 


THE   FIRST   SPARK.  215 

Maria,  full  of  indignation,  spurred  her  horse  right 
into  the  midst  of  the  mob  that  was  tormenting  the 
old  innkeeper,  and  exclaimed  in  a  voice  of  virile 
assurance : 

"What  are  you  all  doing  here?" 

The  mob  only  first  perceived  the  horse  when  it 
was  right  amongst  them. 

A  young  lout  with  a  stumpy  nose,  which  had 
evidently  been  broken  some  time  or  other,  a  bare 
breast,  and  a  shock  of  ragged  hair  covering  hi» 
face,  answered  the  question, 

"  We  are  paying  off  a  poisoner,  young  sir,  if  you 
must  know." 

"  What  poisoner  do  you  mean  ?  "  inquired  Maria, 
who  had  not  the  remotest  idea  what  the  fellow  Weis 
driving  at 

"What!"  cried  the  stripling  defiantly,  "do  you 
mean  to  say  you  don't  know?  Why,  haven't  the 
gentry  got  the  Jews  to  put  poison  in  the  brandy! 
Why,  everyone  knows  that." 

Maria  was  so  dumfoimded  that  she  had  not  a 
word  to  say  in  reply. 

"  Look  I  how  he  pretends  to  know  nothing  about 
it  But  we  cure  up  to  them.  They  may  weave  their 
plans  as  artfully  as  they  like,  we've  got  eyes  in  our 
heads  all  the  same.  All  is  betrayed.  Come,  thou 
Jew !  confess  that  there  is  poison  in  that  cask  1  " 

And  yet  they  all  went  on  drinking  out  of  the 
barrel  as  if  they  had  made  up  their  minds  to  dis- 
cover what  poison  really  tasted  like. 

The  lout  of  a  spokesman  now  filled  his  hat  with 


sz6  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

brandy  up  to  the  brim,  and  held  it  out  towards 
MaricL 

"  Come,  young  sir,"  said  he,  "  if  you  don*t  believe 
that  there's!  poison  in  it,  just  taste  for  yourself  and 
see. 

Maria,  full  of  loathing,  pushed  aside  the  dirty  hat- 
full  of  nauseous  fluid. 

"  You  see !  he  won't  drink  it  I  he  knows  there  is 
poison  in  it" 

"  Pull  him  off  his  horse !  **  cried  a  voice  from  the 
midst  of  the  crowd. 

We  ought  to  hang  him  up  where  the  Hetfalusy 
squires  are  going  to  be  hung !  "  roared  the  others. 

The  dirty  lout,  who  had  offered  her  brandy, 
quickly  seized  the  horse's  bridle,  and  several  of  the 
mob  stretched  out  their  hands  towards  Maria. 

These  savage  menaces  acted  like  a  stimulant  upon 
the  Polish  lady,  she  recovered  her  presence  of  mind 
instantly.  She  brought  down  the  round  knob  of  her 
riding-whip  like  lightning  on  the  head  of  the  fellow 
who  was  trying  to  hold  her  horse  back,  and  he  fell 
like  a  log  prone  to  the  ground.  Then  giving  her 
good  steed  the  spur  she  leaped  clear  of  the  en- 
circling mob.  A  bludgeon  came  whizzing  after  her 
just  above  her  head,  and  the  belated  sweeping 
strokes  of  a  couple  of  scythes  just  missed  her.  One 
or  two  agile  young  ruffians  even  set  off  after  her,  and 
as  two  large  waggons  lay  right  across  her  path  a  little 
further  on,  they  made  sure  of  overtaking  her  there. 
But  the  lady,  with  a  single  boimd,  leaped  over  the 
obstacle,  whereupon  her  pursuers  remained  behind. 


THE  FIRST  SPARK.  axy 

but  as  she  turned  her  back  upon  them  they  sent 
after  her  a  horrible  yell  of  laughter.  "  That's  right, 
go  on ! "  she  hecurd  them  cry,  "  you  are  going  to 
a  good  place,  where  you'll  be  well  looked  after— 
ha,  ha,  ha!" 

Maria  had  only  proceeded  a  few  himdred  paces 
when  she  was  thunderstruck  to  perceive  that  her 
horse  was  beginning  to  limp.  More  than  once  it 
stumbled  heavily,  and  suddenly  it  went  dead  lame. 

The  good  steed,  when  it  leaped  the  obstruction^ 
must  assuredly  have  sprained  its  front  leg. 

Presently  it  could  scarce  put  one  foot  before  the 
other,  and  Maria  was  obliged  to  tighten  the  reins 
continually  to  relieve  the  poor  beast  and  prevent  it 
from  stumbling  as  much  as  possible.  It  was  as  well 
that  her  pursuers  had  abandoned  the  chase,  for  she 
could  scarce  have  hoped  to  escape  from  them 
now. 

But  what  sort  of  disorderly  mob  could  this  be? 
Maria,  now  growing  thoroughly  alarmed,  began  to 
ask  herself;  a  mob  which  had  the  audacity  to  in- 
dulge in  such  excesses  in  the  midst  of  a  civilised, 
constitutional  state,  in  despite  of  all  law  and  order? 
She  had  not  the  remotest  idea  that  it  was  a  wide- 
spread rebellion  of  the  most  horrible  description. 

Meanwhile,  that  black  curtain  had  been  drawn 
right  across  the  sky,  the  whole  region  was  in  pitch- 
black  darkness,  one  stzir  after  another  had  been 
blotted  out,  the  horse  hung  its  head  and  frequently 
whinnied,  Maria  felt  that  she  could  no  longer 
remain  safely  in  her  saddle,  fearing  as  she  did  that 


2i8  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

the  horse  might  at  any  moment  fall  head  foremost 
So  she  dismounted,  and  letting  the  reins  hang  over 
her  cirm,  led  the  horse  along  beside  her. 

It  was  hard  to  discern  the  grass-grown  path  in 
the  darkness,  and  Maria  immediately  directed  her 
footsteps  towards  a  bright  light  in  front  of  her  a 
long  way  off,  which  seemed  to  proceed  from  the 
windows  of  some  wayside  house. 

As  she  drew  nearer  to  this  house  it  seemed  to  her 
as  if  masses  of  men  were  flitting  backwards  and 
forwards,  and  the  din  of  many  voices  struck  upon 
her  ear. 

And  now  it  suddenly  dawned  upon  her  why  her 
pursuers  had  laughed  so  loudly  when  they  saw  her 
take  refuge  in  this  direction,  here  also  the  road  was 
barred. 

For  an  instant  she  stopped  short  Feminine 
weakness  for  a  moment  took  possession  of  her  hearti 
and  a  shudder  ran  suddenly  through  her  whole 
body;  it  was  one  of  those  instinctive  feelings  of 
panic  which  we  cannot  explain  to  ourselves.  Where 
can  I  take  refuge?  she  thought  Shall  I  forsake 
the  road  and  venture  amidst  the  strange  woods 
beyond?  Then  she  bethought  her  on  what  errand 
she  had  come,  and  she  trembled  no  longer,  but 
drew  forth  her  pistols  from  her  holsters,  looked  well 
to  their  priming,  placed  one  under  her  arm,  took 
the  other  in  her  hand,  and  tying  the  horse  to  a  tree 
by  the  roadside  (for,  indeed,  of  what  further  use  was 
he  now?),  resolutely  directed  her  steps  tow^ds  the 
noisy  mob. 


THE   FIRST  SPARK.  1x9 

It  was  now  so  dcirk  that  it  would  have  been  easy 
to  have  avoided  them  altogether  by  making  a  short 
circuit,  but  that  sort  of  perilous  curiosity  which  often 
urges  men  to  thrust  themselves  into  the  very  situa- 
tions from  which  they  instinctively  shrink,  would  not 
mow  permit  her  to  turn  from  her  purpose  of  pene- 
trating those  howling  masses  there  and  then. 

Only  when  she  was  already  in  the  midst  of  them 
did  they  become  aware  of  her. 

"  Stop !  "  resounded  on  every  side  of  her,  and  tiie 
point  of  a  scythe  pressed  against  the  breast  of  the 
intruder. 

In  the  moment  of  danger  Maria  recovered  in  an 
instant  all  her  presence  of  mind. 

"  Give  me  room !  two  paces  at  the  least ! "  she 
cried  with  a  clarion-like  voice.  "  A  step  nearer  and 
I  shoot!     What  do  you. want  here?" 

At  the  sight  of  the  pistol  the  sordid  mob  drew 
back.  If  she  had  wished  to  proceed  the  path  now 
lay  clear  and  imobstructed  before  her. 

But  now  she  had  changed  her  mind.  This 
nocturnal  spectacle  had  put  it  into  her  head  that 
here  was  some  evil  plot  afoot  against  the  Hetfalusy 
family.  She  must  find  out  what  it  was,  and  if 
possible  defeat  it    So  she  repeated  her  question : 

"What  are  you  doing  here?" 

At  that  moment  the  door  of  the  wayside  house 
opened,  and  out  came  Thomas  Bodza  with  a  lamp 
in  his  hand. 

"Who  is  talking  here?"  he  asked,  peering  all 
around  him  into  the  darkness. 


sio  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

Some  timorous  peasant  lads  behind  the  doof 
pointed  out  to  him  the  new  arrival,  at  the  same  time 
calling  his  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  stranger 
had  a  pistol  in  his  hand,  and  it  was  therefore  not 
advisable  to  go  near  him. 

The  master,  however,  boldly  advanced  towards 
Maria,  and  held  the  lamp  high  above  his  head  the 
better  to  read  the  intruder's  face. 

"What  a  fine  head  that  young  squire  has," 
growled  shaggy  Hanak  behind  his  back,  "  it  would 
look  very  well  on  the  point  of  my  scythe." 

"  Hush !  "  said  the  master.  "  I  want  to  speak  to 
him!    Who  are  you,  sir,  and  what  do  you  want?  " 

"That  is  what  I  don't  mean  to  tell  to  the  first 
blockhead  I  meet.  First  of  all  I  should  like  to; 
know  who  you  are.  If  you  are  robbers  I  shall 
defend  myself  against  you  to  the  best  of  my  ability ;) 
if  you  are  fools  I  shall  try  to  enlighten  you ;  if  you 
are  brave  and  honest  men  I  will  shake  hands  with 
you." 

The  last  idea  only  occurred  to  Maria  when  she 
caught  sight  of  Bodza's  face.  She  had  encountered 
such  enthusiasts  before  now,  and  had  had  oppor- 
tunities of  studying  them. 

Bodza's  eyes  sparkled. 

"  We  are  neither  robbers,  nor  fools,  but  brave  men 
in  very  deed,  who  are  battling  for  one  great  brother- 
hood, from  the  icy  sea  to  the  warm  sea."* 

Maria  at  once  stuck  her  pistol  into  her  breasU 

*  /.«..  From  the  White  Sea  to  the  Black  Sea ;  he  meant  the  SUv» 


THE  FIRST  SPARK,  aai 

pocket  and  confidentially  extended  her  hand  to  the 
master. 

"  Then  I  greet  thee,  my  brother,  I  have  just  come 
from  Russia," 

Thomas  Bodza  squinted  suspiciously  at  Maria, 
and  holding  the  iron  ring  on  his  little  finger  right  in 
front  of  her  eyes,  inquired : 

"  Dost  thou  then  know  the  meaning  of  these 
three  letters :  U.  S.  S.  ?  " 

Maria  answered  with  a  smile  t 

"  Ud  slovenske  siridnosce''* 

Then  the  master  did  indeed  press  the  hand 
offered  to  him. 

"  Come  inside ! "  said  he,  himself  escortmg  the 
stranger,  whilst  the  peasants,  obsequiously  raising 
their  caps,  made  a  way  for  them  right  up  to  the 
door. 

The  master  dismissed  everyone  from  the  room, 
and  when  they  two  were  alone  asked  excitedly  in 
Russian : 

"You  come  from  Russia,  you  say?  From  what 
part  of  Russia?" 

"From  the  eternal  city  where  stand  the  golden 
gates  of  the  Kremlin,"  answered  Maria,  also  in  the 
Russian  tongue. 

All  Bodza's  doubts  instantly  disappeared. 

"What  news  in  the  Empire  since  the  death  of 
Romulus?" 

Maria  knew   very  well  whom  was   meant   by 

*  *<  Member  of  the  Slavonic  League ; "  the  language  is  Slovak. 


922  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

Romulus.  It  was  none  other  than  Muravlev,  who 
was  to  be  the  builder  of  the  walls  of  the  new  Rome, 
which  was  ere  long  to  be  the  Lord  of  the  whole  earth. 

Maria  was  no  proselyte  of  this  extravagant  con- 
federacy, but,  living,  as  she  did,  nearer  to  the  main 
source  of  it  all,  she  was  better  able,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  current  rumours  and  her  own  lively  imagina- 
tion, to  amuse  Thomas  Bodza  with  more  fables  than 
he  could  have  told  her. 

"Romulus  is  not  dead,  Romulus  is  still  alive,* 
whispered  she  to  the  interrogator  mysteriously. 

"How  so?"  asked  Bodza,  much  surprised;' 
"where  is  he  then?  " 

"  He  has  disappeared — like  Romulus.  The  Gods 
have  taken  him !  " — and  Maria  smiled  enigmatically, 
as  if  she  could  reveal  a  great  deal  more  if  she  only 
chose. 

Bodza  seized  her  hand  violently. 

"  And  in  his  own  time  he  will  appear  again,  eh?  * 

The  only  answer  Maria  gave  was  to  press  his 
hand  significantly. 

"Then  it  is  true  that  they  have  not  beheaded 
him?  "  continued  the  master  excitedly,  "  and  one  of 
his  good  spiritual  brethren  sacrificed  himself  in  his 
stead?" 

"It  was  my  own  brother,"  said  Maria,  covering 
her  eyes  with  her  hands.  Then  she  suddenly 
placed  her  hand  on  the  master's  shoulder.  "  Weep 
not  for  him !  "  she  cried,  "  Look !  I  do  not  weep, 
and  yet  he  was  my  brother.  Romulus  still  lives 
and  demands  sacrifice  and  obedience  from  us  all." 


THE  FIRST  SPARK.  923 

The  master  pressed  Maria's  hand  still  more 
Weurmly. 

"  What  is  thy  name,  my  beloved  brother?  ** 

"  My  name  is  Fabius  Cimctator !  "  said  Maria, 
well  aware  of  the  weakness  of  these  visionaries  for 
classical  names. 

''My  name  is  Numa  Pompilius,"  said  Bodza, 
tossing  back  his  head  with  proud  self -consciousness. 
"  Numa  Pompilius,  ever  true  to  the  good  cause, 
fervent  in  action,  lucid  in  cotmsel,  pitiless  in  execu- 
tion, and  fearless  in  peril" 

And  again  they  pressed  each  other's  hands  in  a 
fiery  masonic  grip,  and  all  the  while  Maria  was 
thinking :  how  I  long  to  seize  the  dry  skinny  throat 
of  this  fervent,  pitiless,  and  fearless  man  while  he 
is  spouting  his  finest,  and  throttle  him.  on  the 
spot 

"  So  you  have  raised  the  standard  of  revolt,  eh?  " 
inquired  Maria  of  the  valicint  Numa  Pompilius, 
**  who  gave  you  the  signal?  " 

"Heaven  and  Earth,"  replied  the  master. 
**  Heaven  which  sends  death  down  upon  the  pe(^le, 
and  Earth  whfch  opens  her  mouth  to  receive  their 
dead  bodies.  Never  was  there  a  better  opportunity 
than  now.  The  terrible  destroying  cingel  is  going 
from  house  to  house,  and  striding  from  village  to 
village,  bringing  with  him  wherever  he  goes  sorrow 
and  terror.  Men  perceive  that  life  is  cheap  and 
that  it  can't  last  long.  Desperation  has  severed 
every  bond  between  masters  and  servants,  creditors 
and  debtors,  superiors  and  inferiors.    It  needs  but 


M24t  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

one  spark  to  ignite  the  whole  mass.  That  spark 
has  already  been  kindled" 

"How?" 

"A  blind  rumour  has  begun  to  circulate  among 
the  masses  to  the  effect  that  the  gentry  are  about 
to  poison  their  peasants  en  masse" 

Maria  looked  at  the  master  in  amazement 

**  But  is  there  anyone  who  believes  such  a  thing?  " 

**  The  tales  of  wayfarers  first  spread  the  rumour, 
the  thoughtless  speech  of  a  drunken  apothecary's 
assistant  established  it,  intercepted  letters  written  by 
the  gentry  to  one  another  served  as  confirmatory 
testimony." 

"And  the  gentry  actually  wrote  to  each  other 
that  they  were  about  to  poison  the  peasants?  " 

"  No,  but  those  who  read  out  these  letters  to  the 
people,  took  care  to  find  therein  things  that  had 
never  been  written  down." 

In  her  horror  and  disgust  Maria  had  been  on  the 
point  of  betraying  herself. 

"  Oh !  I  see.  You  read  out  forged  letters  to  the 
illiterate  people.  A  very  judicious  expedient,  I 
must  say.  Village  folks  can  be  got  to  believe  any- 
thing.   But  how  about  the  townsfolk?  " 

" Oh!  in  the  towns  there  is  even  more  fear  than 
in  the  cotmtry,  and  more  terrifying  rumoiurs  too. 
But  one  loud  cry  and  the  walls  of  Jericho  will  fall 
down— -fall  down  where  nobody  expected  it" 

An  idea  suddenly  flashed  like  lightning  through 
Maria  s  braiiL 

*'Have  our  brethren  who  dwell  on  the  banks  oi 


THE  FIRST  SPARK.  225 

the  Drave*  and  among  the  mountains  of  Chema- 
goraf  been  informed  of  this  movement  ? "  she  asked. 

The  master,  somewhat  confused,  replied  that  they 
had  not. 

"  Then  all  our  fine  preparations  will  lead  to  noth- 
ing," rejoined  Maria,  with  self -assumed  despondency. 
**  While  you  are  awake  in  one  place  they  are  asleep 
in  another;  in  one  spot  the  flames  are  bursting 
forth,  in  another  they  are  being  extinguished. 
Why,  they  ought  to  have  flashed  forth  everywhere 
at  once.    Have  you  issued  proclamations?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Bodza  shamefacedly. 

"  Then,  Numa  Pompilius,  you  know  not  what  you 
are  about,"  cried  Maria.  "  Why,  that  was  the  first, 
the  one  absolutely  indispensable  thing  to  be  done. 
You  should  have  sent  proclaunations  in  every  direc- 
tion, you  should  have  kept  the  local  leaders  fully 
informed  of  what  was  going  on,  you  should  have 
concentrated  the  whole  force  of  the  movement, 
you  should  have  thoroughly  systematized  the  whole 
concern.  Ah !  Numa,  I  see  you  are  but  a  neophyte 
after  all.  Why  did  you  begin  without  inviting  the 
aid  of  the  Poles?  This  is  just  the  sort  of  thing  a 
Pole  would  imderstand !  Have  you  writing  materials 
handy?" 

Startled  into  obsequiousness,  Bodza  produced  ink 
and  paper  from  some  secret  receptacle.  He  was 
himably  silent  now.  He  felt  himself  in  the  presence 
of  a  man  wiser  than  himself. 

*  And  now  sit  down  and  write !  " 

*  The  Ccoato  and  Serbs.  f  The  Montenegrins. 

P 


226  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

Bodza  obeyed  medianically.  Maria  dictated  to 
him  what  he  was  to  write,  while  she  herself,  at  the 
same  time,  was  writing  something  else  on  another 
piece  of  paper. 

"  Brethren  ! 

"The  long  expected  hour  has  at  length 
struck.  The  flag  is  unfurled.  The  gentry  want  to 
extirpate  us  by  means  of  poison,  we  will  extirpate 
them  with  fire  and  sword.  The  brave  shall  live, 
the  cowards  shall  die.  Ye,  who  see  your  children, 
your  parents  tormented  and  grovelling  in  the  dust, 
snatch  up  your  arms  and  avenge  them.  Fear  not 
the  soldiers,  they  also  will  be  on  our  side.  Let 
none  go  who  has  short-cropped  hair.  Two  deputies 
must  proceed  forthwith  from  every  village  to  Het- 
falu,  which  is  to  be  the  centre  of  our  operations,  and 
there  await  our  further  instructions.  Valoiu:  and 
concord. 

"  Given  at  our  headquarters  near  H6tfalu.'* 

"  Write  your  name  beneath  it :  *  Numa  Pompilius, 
praetor  of  Upper  Pannonia.'  " 

Thomas  Bodza,  with  a  spasmodic  grin,  accepted 
this  title  of  distinction,  and  added  his  sprawling 
signatiure  to  the  dangerous  document 

Then  Maria  snatched  up  a  pen,  and  subscribed 
it  with  the  name:  Fabius  Cunctator,  quaestor  of 
Volhynia. 

Then  both  documents  were  sealed  with  the 
famous  signet  ring,  bearing  the  three  mysterious 
lettersj,  and  also  with  Mcuria's  family  seal 


THE  FIRST  SPARK.  127 

"  And  now  send  one  of  the  documents  by  a  rapid 
hbrseman  to  the  Nyitra  district,  while  I  hasten  with 
the  other  towards  Slavonia.  Meanwhile,  you  will 
organize  here  a  standing  army.  You  have  already 
arranged,  I  suppose,  to  procure  provisions  and 
uniforms?  " 

Thomas  Bodza  confessed  with  a  blush  that  he 
had  not  taken  thought  for  these  things. 

"  Well,  write  as  soon  as  possible  an  open  order  to 
the  presidents  of  the  Tailor  and  Cobbler  Guilds  of 
Kassa  and  Rozsny6,  commanding  each  of  them  to 
provide,  without  fail,  within  ten  days  four  thousand 
pairs  of  boots  and  just  as  many  dolmans  and  sziirs,* 
and  send  them  in  carts  to  Hetfalu,  otherwise  you 
will  levy  upon  them  a  grievous  contribution." 

This  letter  also  Thomas  Bodza  wrote  as  he  had 
been  told.  "These  Poles  have  had  such  lots  of 
practice  in  such  matters,"  thought  he  to  himself. 

"  And  now  despatch  one  of  these  open  orders  by 
a  swift  courier  to  Rozsnyo,  and  the  other  I  will  take 
charge  of.  Do  not  forget  to  have  numerous  copies 
made  of  these  proclamations  for  instant  distribution 
throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  kingdom." 

Bodza  promised  to  make  his  pupils  copy  out  the 
documents  in  question  early  on  the  following  morn- 
ing. 

"  And  now,  my  brave  Numa,  don't  forget  that  our 
watchword  is :  *  Valour  and  Concord ! '  Of  valour 
we  have  no  lack,  but  as  regards  concord  I  would  first 

*  A  sz&r  is  a  sheepskin  mantle  such  as  the  peasants  wear. 


S38  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

of  all  have  you  know  why  they  call  me  Fabius 
Cimctator.  My  principle  is :  judicious  procrastina- 
tion! It  was  a  premature  signal,  you  will  remem- 
ber, which  ruined  the  plots  of  Romulus  H.  If  only 
he  had  waited  for  another  half  day,  for  another  six 
hours,  his  enterprise  would  have  been  a  triumphant 
success.  Only  over-hastiness  ruined  us  then.  Lest 
a  similar  risk  should  befall  us  now,  I  would 
strongly  advise  you  to  postpone  the  general  rising 
till  to-morrow  afternoon.  To-morrow  afternoon  all 
the  soldiery  will  quit  Kassa  for  Eperies,  and  they 
will  not  be  relieved  for  two  whole  days.  You  will 
now  imderstand  therefore  why  I  want  the  rising 
postponed  till  to-morrow  afternoon." 

The  master  turned  very  pale 

"  Too  late  now !  "  said  he. 

"  How  so?  "  exclaimed  Maria  confounded. 

"  All  my  orders  have  been  distributed  already.** 

"  Then  they  must  be  recalled." 

"It's  impossible,  impossible,"  cried  the  master, 
wringing  his  hands ;  and  he  glanced  anxiously,  from 
time  to  time,  through  the  window,  through  which  a 
far  distant  reddish  light  was  beginning  to  illuminate 
the  room.  "They  have  already  fired  the  house  of 
the  headsman." 

"  What !  "  cried  Maria  beside  herself. 

"  That  was  to  be  the  beginning  of  it  It  is  im- 
possible now  to  hold  them  back  any  longer." 

"  Oh,  fools  and  madmen !  "  hissed  the  lady.  Her 
immediate  impulse  was  to  rush  from  the  room.  At 
the  door,  however,  she  recovered  her  sang  froid^  and. 


THE   FIRST  SPARK.  aa9 

turning  back,   clutched   Bodza  by   the   ann  and 

whispered  in  his  ear : 

"  There  is  now  only  one  remaining  way  of  gain- 
ing a  complete  victory." 

"What  is  that?" 

"We  must  revolt  the  county-town  also.  If  we 
succeed  we  shall  have  the  General  as  a  hostage,  if 
we  do  not,  at  least  we  shall  give  the  soldiers  some- 
thing to  do." 

Thomas  Bodza,  with  his  teeth  all  chattering, 
approved  of  this  project.  He  would,  however,  have 
very  much  liked  to  know  who  would  xmdertalce  this 
dangerous  enterprise. 

Never  had  Msuria  had  to  exercise  such  self-control 
as  now,  when,  gazing  through  the  window  into  the 
night,  she  watched  with  the  utmost  sang  froid  the 
distant  conflagration  which  was  lighting  up  the 
room. 

For  an  instant  the  thought  of  what  was  happen- 
ing there  and  what  might  be  happening  elsewhere 
flashed  through  her  brain.  She  saw  vividly  before 
her  all  those  midnight  horrors,  and  all  the  time  she 
had  to  affect  an  enthusiastic  interest  in  the  affair. 

"Numa  Pompilius,  we  must  make  haste!  Have 
you  a  good  steed  handy  here?  Mine  I  have  left 
behind  on  the  road,  it  was  no  longer  of  any  service 
tome." 

"  Be  it  so,  Fabius !  It  was  my  first  care  to  seize 
all  the  post-horses  in  order  that  the  authorities 
should  not  send  forth  couriers  for  assistance.  You 
see  that  I  am  provident    Choose  the  best  horse  for 


230  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

yourself  and  hasten  whither  you  would.  I  entrust 
this  province  to  you." 

Bodza  was  magnanimous.  The  department  of 
greatest  danger  and  the  glory  of  conquest  he  en- 
trusted to  another. 

"I  will  hasten,"  cried  Maria,  flinging  open  the 
door — and  for  some  moments  she  remained  stand- 
ing on  the  threshold.  "  Numa !  "  she  cried  at  last, 
"  you  would  let  me  depsirt  alone?  " 

"Why  not?" 

"  You  are  making  a  mistaJce.  The  popular  leaders 
might  be  suspicious.  Suppose  they  took  me  for  a 
spy  or  a  traitor?  Never  put  your  whole  confidence 
in  a  single  person.  Always  send  forth  your  emissa- 
ries in  couples,  that  one  of  them  may  be  a  check 
upon  the  other.  That  is  a  general  rule.  I  am 
surprised  that  you  have  not  learnt  it  hitherto." 

Thomas  Bodza  admitted  his  mistake,  but  of 
course  Fabius  had  had  so  much  more  experience 
in  these  matters.    An  escort  he  must  have  certainly. 

Maria,  on  the  other  hand,  required  an  escort  in 
order  to  avoid  being  again  detained  by  the  mobs 
of  rustics  encamped  in  front  of  the  csdrda. 

"  Bring  hither  two  good  horses !  "  cried  Bodza  to 
the  boor  mounting  guard  in  the  corridor,  and  with 
that  the  pair  of  them  stepped  forth  amidst  the 
peasant  host 

The  peasants  were  scattered  about  in  groups. 
Here  and  there  some  of  them  were  engaged  in 
sharpening  their  scythes.  Others  were  standing 
round  excited  stmnp-orators,  or  making  a  frightful 


THE   FIRST  SPARK.  231 

uproar  over  a  few  pence  which  they  had  found  upon 
some  poor  Jewish  tramp  and  would  not  divide  fairly. 

"  My  friends ! "  cried  Maria,  stepping  into  the 
midst  of  them,  and  speaking  in  a  friendly  confident 
tone,  "can  I  find  among  you  half  a  dozen  stout- 
hearted dare-devils  who  are  ready,  if  necessary,  to 
go  through  fire  and  water?  " 

The  gaping  rioters  did  not  respond  very  willingly 
at  first,  but  when  Thomas  Bodza  assured  them  that 
they  now  saw  before  them  one  of  the  most  powerful 
leaders  of  the  movement,  ten  or  twenty  of  them 
forced  their  way  to  the  front,  boasting  loudly  that 
they  were  prepared  to  face  any  danger. 

"  Remember  this  is  no  joke,  my  sons,"  continued 
Maria.  "Are  you  ready  to  adventure  yourselves 
with  me  in  the  coimty-town,  read  the' proclamation 
in  the  streets,  stir  up  the  people  there,  provide  your- 
selves with  weapons  and  powder,  and  seize  all  the 
bigwigs  at  one  stroke  like  a  pack  of  wolves  in  a 
spiimey  ?  " 

This  little  speech  somewhat  abated  the  ardour  of 
the  more  clamorous  heroes,  yet  two  or  three  youths, 
well  soaked  with  brandy,  still  persisted  in  beating 
their  breasts  with  their  fists,  and  declared  that  they 
were  men  enough  for  einything. 

Maria  selected  from  among  them  shaggy  Handk. 
The  fellow  had  a  face  as  broad  as  it  was  long,  one 
half  of  which  was  covered  with  hair,  the  other  with 
bristles ;  it  was  impossible  not  to  take  to  him  at  once. 

"  You  shall  come  with  me.  Moimt  on  the  other 
horse." 


9$2  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

Shaggy  Hanak  did  not  wait  for  a  second  invita* 
tion.    He  managed  somehow  to  scramble  on  to  the  . 
horse's  back,  and  could  not  help  smiling  with  joy 
at  the  thought  that  at  last  he  had  a  good  steed 
beneath  him. 

Maria  leaped  lightly  on  to  the  second  horse.  It 
was  a  somewhat  lean  and  bony  beast  of  great 
powers  of  endurance. 

"To-morrow  about  this  time  you  shall  hear  of 
us,"  she  said,  addressing  herself  to  Bodza.  "Till 
then  avoid  every  decisive  step.  Whomsoever  you 
may  capture  keep  a  strict  watch  upon  them,  and 
see  that  no  harm  befall  them.  Do  you  take  me? 
It  is  possible  that  the  captives  may  attempt  to  put 
an  end  to  their  own  lives.  But  we  shall  require 
them  all  on  accoimt  of  their  confessions.  There- 
fore take  care  of  their  lives.  We  must  judge  each 
one  of  them  separately.  Numa!  take  care  to  be 
ubiquitous.    Valour  and  vigilance !  " 

Then,  after  pressing  Thomas  Bodza's  hand  once 
more,  Maria  put  spurs  to  her  horse  and  galloped 
bri^ly  along  the  high  road.  As  for  the  horse  of 
her  comrade  it  had  to  be  almost  dragged  out  of 
the  courtyard,  as  it  showed  a  disposition  to  force  its 
rider  to  return  to  the  stable.  Only  with  the  utmost 
difficulty  did  Handk  succeed  in  overtaking  Maria, 
pmrsued  by  the  yells  of  encouragement  and  exulta- 
tion of  the  mob  he  had  left  behind  him. 

Maria  pounded  along  the  highway,  glancing  aside 
from  time  to  time  in  the  direction  of  the  burning 
house,  the  conflagration  of  which  lit  up  the  overcast 


THE   FIRST  SPARK.  933 

sky,  tingring  the  clouds  with  an  angry  purple.  The 
wind  drove  the  lurid  smoke  hither  and  thither. 
There  was  as  steady  a  glare  as  if  a  whole  village 
was  in  flames.  As  they  sped  further  and  further 
away  the  flames  lit  up  the  road  and  the  wayside 
trees,  and  the  towering  masses  of  clouds  ever 
less  and  less.  At  last  all  that  was  to  be  seen  was 
a  large  blood-red  star  rising  from  the  plain,  a  mere 
point  of  light  far,  far  away.  Then  even  that  vanished. 
Soon  afterwards  day  began  to  dawn.  The  cinder- 
grey  sky  reduced  the  nightly  glare  to  ashes,  and  a 
dark  grey  column  of  smoke,  standing  out  against 
the  pale  yellow  horizon,  was  the  only  sign  left  of  the 
conflagration. 

On  approaching  the  next  csdrda,  Maria  allowed 
Hanak  to  draw  nearer  to  her;  her  escort  had  to 
explain  to  the  mob  of  peasants  drinking  in  front  of 
the  door  on  what  errand  they  were  speeding.  He 
did  so  in  his  usual  boisterous  bombastic  fashion. 

"  We  are  going  to  town,"  bawled  he.  "  We  are  going 
to  read  the  proclamation  cind  collar  the  soldiers 
and  the  bigwigs,  and  bring  back  with  us  guns  and 
gunpowder,  and  lots  of  money.    This  is  the  courier." 

Hoarsely  bellowed  "  Eljens ! "  greeted  this  mag- 
nanimous resolution.  A  guffawing  scytheman, 
moreover,  pressed  with  his  horny  palm  the  hand  of 
Maria,  for  whom  shaggy  Hanak,  in  the  fervour  of 
his  enthusiasm,  could  find  no  more  important  title 
than  that  of  "  courier." 

As  the  day  slowly  began  to  dawn,  the  sobering 
breath  of  the  fresh  morning  breeze  blew  full  in  the 


«54  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

faces  of  the  horsemen,  and  the  towers  of  the  county- 
town  stood  out  plainly  before  them  in  the  distance. 
And  now  Maria  began  to  observe  that  her  com- 
panion was  lagging  behind  her  at  a  considerable  dis- 
tance. More  than  once  she  had  to  shout  back  to  him : 

**  My  brother !  don't  drop  behind  so !  " 

"My  horse  is  tired  out,"  stammered  Handk,  and  he 
kept  on  mopping  up  the  sweat  from  his  tow;fled  poll. 

"  Give  him  the  spur,  then ! " 

"I  would  if  I  had  'em." 

"  Then  ride  in  front  of  me,  and  I'll  whip  him  up 
from  behind." 

And  so  they  went  along  pretty  well  for  some  time, 
but  when  the  towers  and  steeples  of  the  county-town 
drew  very  much  nearer,  shaggy  Hanak  began  to 
complain  that  his  saddle  was  nearly  falling  j)ff. 

"  Dismount,  then,  and  fix  it  tighter !  " 

The  fellow  dismounted  accordingly,  but  he  was 
fumbling  about  with  it  such  a  long  time  that  Maria, 
growing  impatient,  herself  leaped  to  the  groimd  and 
tightened  his  saddle-girths. 

"  And  now  up  you  get  and  off  again !  " 

Shaggy  Hanak  stuck  all  five  fingers  into  his  hairy 
poll  and  scratched  his  head  all  round  beneath  his 
cap,  then  suddenly,  with  an  artful  grin,  he  turned 
his  face  towards  Maria. 

"  Hark  ye !    Are  we  really  going  into  the  town  ?  " 

"  Of  course  we  are." 

"  And  you  really  intend  to  read  out  the  proclama- 
tion, to  seize  the  General,  take  away  the  guns,  and 
capture  the  barrack?  " 


THE   FIRST  SPARK.  9$S 

**  Yes,  and  much  more  besides,  when  the  business 
has  been  fairly  begun." 

Shaggy  Hanak  began  to  scratch  his  head  still 
harder,  and  seemed  to  have  a  thousand  and  one 
things  to  put  to  rights  in  the  horse's  trappings.  At 
]ast  he  came  out  with  the  following  proposition : 

"  Listen,  comrade !  Don't  you  think  it  would  be 
better  if,  when  you  went  into  the  town,  I  remained 
outside  and  read  the  proclamation  to  all  the  people 
coming  to  market  ?  " 

"You  can  read  then?" 

"  Read !  A  pretty  sort  of  sexton  I  should  be  if 
I  couldn't  read!" 

"  Very  well,  I  rather  like  your  idea ; "  whereupon 
Maria  drew  from  her  side-pocket  a  couple  of  cigars 
wrapped  up  in  part  of  an  odd  number  of  the  Leut- 
schau  county  newspaper,  and  gave  the  sheet  to  her 
valiant  comrade,  who  glanced  over  it  with  the  air  of 
a  connoisseur,  and,  after  declaring  aloud  that  he 
quite  grasped  its  meaning,  folded  it  neatly  up,  and 
stuck  it  in  the  braiding  of  his  cap. 

**  m  read  it  in  my  best  style,"  said  he,  "  and  will 
come  to  your  assistance  at  the  head  of  a  fresh  band 
of  them." 

Maria  approved  of  his  design,  and,  whipping  up 
her  horse,  galloped  towards  the  town  at  such  a 
rate  that  shaggy  Hanak  felt  constrained  to  pray 
Heaven  that  his  comrade  might  not  break  his  neck 
before  he  got  there. 


CHAPTER    XLl. 

IN  THE  MIDST  OF  THE  FIRE. 

/.UdAsl  was  to-night  more  anxious  than  at  other 
times.  He  had  put  up  the  iron  shutters  in  front  of 
his  windows  immediately  after  dusk,  and  had  gone 
to  bed  much  earlier  than  usual 

The  evening  prayer  of  the  httle  girl  soothed  him 
for  a  while.  "  Amen !  Amen !  "  he  kept  repeating 
after  her,  laying  stress  upon  the  word — ^and  then 
something  began  agitating  him  again  strangely. 

"  An  evil  foreboding,  an  evil  foreboding,"  he  kept 
on  murmuring;  "some  great  calamity  is  about  to 
befall  me." 

"You  have  caught  cold,  my  good  father,"  said 
the  little  giri  soothingly,  stroking  the  old  man's  fore- 
head with  her  tiny  hand ;  "  your  hand  is  trembling, 
your  head  is  burning  .  .  ." 

"  I  am  all  shivering  inside,"  said  the  old  man ;  "  a 
sort  of  deadly  coldness  seems  to  come  from  within 
me.    Don't  you  hear  a  noise  in  the  courtyard?  *' 

"  There  is  nothing,  my  father.  Only  the  horses 
are  stamping  in  the  stable." 

"  But  don't  you  hear  talking,  whispering  beneath 


IN    THE   MIDST  OF  THE   FIRE.         137 

the  windows,  just  as  if  someone  was  digging  at  the 
wall  below?" 

"  The  dog  is  settling  down  for  the  night ;  'tis  he 
who  is  scratching  down  below  there.  Go  to  restj 
my  good  father !  " 

"  I  will  lie  down,  but  I  shall  not  be  able  to  slecpt 
Put  my  musket  at  the  head  of  my  bed." 

Elise  took  the  gun  down  from  the  wall,  examined 
it  carefully  to  make  sure  that  it  was  in  perfect  order, 
and  then  leaned  it  against  the  bed 

Then  they  both  lay  down. 

Zudar  kept  conversing  for  a  long  time  with  Elise 
in  the  darkness,  and  assuring  her  that  he  should 
never  go  to  sleep — ^nevertheless,  suddenly,  there  was 
a  deep  silence,  followed  presently  by  a  deep^ 
thunderous  snore,  only  interrupted  from  time  to 
time  by  cries  of  terror,  as  if  the  sleeper  were 
tormented  by  evil  dreams,  and  at  such  times  he 
would  fling  himself  violently  against  the  sides  of  the 
bed 

The  child  did  not  sleep.  Resting  on  her  elbows 
she  lay  there  listening  and  gazing  steadily  into  the 
vision-haunted  darkness. 

Presently  it  seemed  to  her  also  as  if  a  large  con- 
course of  people  was  moving  backwards  and 
forwards  along  the  wall  outside,  and  a  great  deal  of 
whispering  appeared  to  come  from  the  kitchen. 

Suddenly  she  heard  a  soft  knocking  at  the  door, 
and  the  voice  of  Dame  Zudar  inquired : 

"  I  say,  Betsey !  is  your  father  asleep  ?  ** 

*Yes,"  stammered  the  little  girl 


138  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

"  Some  people  have  come  hither  from  Kassa,  they 
don't  understand  German,  come  out  and  speak  to 
them!" 

The  Httle  maid  hastily  put  on  her  clothes  and, 
opening  the  fast-locked  door,  went  out  into  the 
kitchen. 


Peter  Zudar  was  continually  tormented  by  evil 
dreams.  Danger  to  Elise  was  the  ever-recurring 
subject  of  his  nightmares.  Now  he  saw  her  wan- 
dering among  rocks  overhanging  dizzy  abysses,  and 
would  have  stretched  out  his  hand  to  lay  hold  of 
her  and  draw  her  back,  but  his  hand  could  not  reach 
her.  Now  a  fierce  wolf  was  pursuing  the  child,  and 
he  would  have  run  after  it  with  a  gun,  but  his  legs 
refused  their  service,  or  he  forgot  where  the  gun 
was,  or  it  refused  to  go  off. 

Suddenly  a  shrill  scream  sounded  in  his  ear. 

"Father!" 

Up  he  jumped.  That  cry  had  pierced  through 
his  heart,  through  every  fibre  of  his  body.  It  was 
Elise  who  was  calling. 

"Elise!  Elise,  my  child!  are  you  asleep?  Were 
you  calling  just  now  ?  "  he  inquired  softly. 

Receiving  no  aoiswer  he  turned  towards  the  child's 
bed,  which  lay  at  the  foot  of  his  own,  and  sought 
for  her  little  head  on  the  pillow  with  his  hand. 

She  was  not  there. 

The  same  instant  he  heard  the  key  of  his  room- 
door  turning  in  the  lock  outside. 


IN  THE  MIDST  OF  THE  FIRE.        239 

With  one  bound  he  was  at  the  door.  Not  a  word 
did  he  say,  but  he  shook  the  door  till  it  trembled 
on  its  hinges. 

At  that  moment  he  heard  hcisty  footsteps  quitting 
the  kitchen  and  the  hall,  and  once  more  imagined 
he  could  distinguish  Elise*s  stifled  moans. 

Redoubled  fury  lent  gigantic  strength  to  his 
Sampsonian  frame.  The  door  burst  into  two  pieces 
beneath  the  pressure  of  his  hands,  and  the  upper 
portion  containing  the  lock  remained  in  his  clenched 
fist 

He  roared  aloud  for  the  first  time  as  he  rushed 
into  the  kitchen.  It  was  no  human  voice,  no  itt- 
telligible  soimd,  but  the  roar  of  a  savage  lion  whose 
den  has  been  broken  into,  and  who  scents  the  flesh 
of  the  huntsman. 

And  in  response  to  this  savage  roar  there  arose 
from  the  courtyard  the  mocking  yell  of  hundreds 
and  hundreds  of  human  voices,  intermingled  with 
laughter,  curses,  and  threats. 

For  a  moment  he  remained  tiaere  dumf  ounded. 
What  could  it  be?  Surely  not  a  band  o£  robbers 
in  collusion  with  his  wife? 

"Look  out!"  cried  the  shrill  voice  of  Dame 
Zuddr  rising  above  the  din  outside,  "  the  old  carrion 
has  a  loaded  musket,  and  would  shoot  at  you  if  there 
were  a  thousand  of  you." 

But  Zuddr  did  not  even  require  the  help  of  a 
loaded  musket,  he  would  have  rushed  out  among 
them  with  his  bare  fists,  but  the  kitchen  door  was 
barred  and  bolted,  and  barricaded  with  all  sorts  of 
heavy  obstacles. 


ijo  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

Panting  hard,  Zudar  rushed  back  into  his  room* 
sought  out  a  heavy  axe,  and  rushed  back  to  the 
kitchen  door.  At  the  first  vigorous  strokes  the 
joints  of  the  door  began  to  crack. 

"Quick!  throw  the  bundles  of  faggots  in  front 
of  the  door!"  shrieked  the  savage  virago  outside, 
"  and  set  it  alight  at  once  I  Don't  you  see  the  door 
is  giving  way?" 

The  courtyard  was  crowded  with  a  mob  of  louts, 
armed  with  scythes  and  pitchforks,  among  whom 
stood  Dame  Zuddr,  with  dishevelled  hair  and 
flaming  eyes*  like  the  very  Fury  of  Revolt 

The  peasant  host  quickly  got  together  a  heap  of 
faggots,  and  carrying  them  to  the  door,  literally 
buried  it  beneath  them. 

"And  now  a  match!  Let  him  bum  in  his  own 
den!" 

It  was  Zuddr*s  own  wife  who  thus  exclaimed. 

The  boor  who  tried  to  kindle  the  fire  WcLS  such  a 
long  time  about  it,  owing  to  the  damp  tinder,  that 
Dame  Zuddr  impatiently  snatched  the  flint  and  steel 
out  of  his  hands,  struck  away  at  it  till  she  had 
ignited  the  tinder,  then  thrust  it  with  her  own  hand 
in  the  midst  of  the  straw  surrounding  the  faggots, 
fanned  it  with  her  apron  till  it  burst  into  a  vivid 
fl2une,  and  then  ran  across  the  courtyard  to  the 
other  side  of  the  faggot  heap  to  set  it  alight  there 
also.  Her  wild  and  tangled  tresses  fluttered  in  the 
tempest 

**  My  father,  oh !  my  good  father !  "  wailed  a  scarce 
audible  voice  from  tiie  bottom  of  the  reed-covered 


IN  THE  MIDST  OF  THE  FIRE.         241 

waggon  to  which  the  headsman's  horses  had  been 
attached. 

The  dry  bunches  of  twigs  and  fire-wood  suddenly 
began  spluttering  and  crackling,  and  burst  into  a 
flame.  The  windows  of  the  house  were  also 
crammed  full  with  straw  and  sticks,  and  each  heap 
of  combustibles  was  ignited  one  by  one.  Soon 
something  very  like  a  big  bonfire  was  blazing  merrily 
all  round  the  house. 

The  man  imprisoned  within  there  thundered  away 
at  the  door  with  all  his  might,  and  at  each  terrible 
blow  the  besiegers  laughed  derisively. 

"Bravo,  fire  away!  Frizzle  away  in  your  own 
den,  old  Bruin !  " 


The  thuds  against  the  door  had  ceased;  the 
flames  were  already  leaping  above  the  roof  of  the 
house ;  the  whole  building  was  burning  with  a 
steady  glare,  casting  forth  showers  of  sparks  upwards 
towards  the  sky.  And  long,  long  after  that,  when 
the  flames  were  towering  upwards  in  each  other^s 
embrace  above  the  ruins  of  the  house,  it  seemed 
to  many  as  if  they  heard,  arising  from  the  deepest 
depths  of  this  furnace  of  blazing  embers,  the  half- 
smothered  soimd  of  a  deep  sonorous  voice  intoning 
the  vesper  hymn.  Perchance  it  was  only  imagina- 
tion, only  a  delusion  of  the  senses.  Nobody  could 
be  singing  there  now,  except  it  were  the  soul  of  the 
headsman.  In  a  short  half-hour  the  roof  collapsed 
between  the  four  walls,  burying  in  a  burning  tomb 

Q 


94^  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

all  that  lay  beneath  it,  and  millions  of  sparks  rose 
straight  up  into  the  air. 

"  So  there  we  have  settled  your  account  for  you  I  " 
cried  Dame  Zudar,  as  the  hellish  glare  of  the  fire  lit 
up  her  passion-distorted  face.  "And  now  comes 
the  turn  of  the  castle! " 

"  Oh,  my  father !  my  poor  father ! "  wailed  the 
child,  who  lay  fast  bound  at  the  bottom  of  the  cart 
beneath  a  covering  of  rushes. 

The  furious  virago  gazed  at  her  with  gnaslung 
teeth- 

"Your  father  indeed!  Your  real  father's  turn 
will  come  later,  my  chicken.  And  now,  my  lads, 
let*s  be  up  and  doing  elsewhere ! " 

And,  with  that,  she  leaped  upon  the  car,  seized  the 
reins  in  her  hands  and  whipped  up  the  horses,  and 
before  and  behind  her  tore  the  savage,  bloodthirsty 
mob  with  torches  and  pitchforks.  There  she  stood 
in  the  midst  of  them  with  dishevelled,  storm-tossed 
tresses  like  the  Genius  of  War  and  Devastation  rapt 
along  on  frantic  steeds,  with  coiling  snakes  for  hair, 
a  terrible  escort  of  evil  beasts  and  semi-bestial  men, 
and  ruin  and  malediction  before  and  behind  her. 


Zuddr,  as  soon  as  he  had  guessed  the  hellish 
design  of  his  enemies,  hastily  abcindoned  all 
attempts  to  stave  in  the  door,  and  rushed  to  the  rear- 
most room  of  the  house  with  the  intention  o£ 
escaping  into  the  garden  through  the  window. 


IN   THE   MIDST   OF   THE   FIRE,         243 

But  what  was  his  horror  when  he  perceived  that 
here  also  the  windows  were  covered  with  a  fence 
of  dry  reeds  and  faggots,  through  which  the  hissing 
flames  were  already  beginning  to  wriggle  like  fiery 
serpents — clouds  of  smoke  were  already  coming 
through  the  shattered  windows. 

Back  again  he  hastened  into  the  front  room,  the 
windows  of  which  were  guarded  by  iron  shutters, 
which  stopped  the  intrusion  of  the  flames.  Outside 
resoimded  the  furious  howling  of  the  rioters,  and 
all  round  about  him  too  was  to  be  heard  the  soft 
hissing  fizz  of  the  burning  reeds  and  the  licking  of 
the  flames,  and  the  loud  crackling  of  the  dry  beams 
— all  around  him  and  above  his  head  also. 

The  iron  shutters  over  the  windows  were  gradu- 
ally becoming  red-hot,  and,  like  transparent  panes 
of  glass,  admitted  the  rays  of  the  fiery  sea  beyond 
them,  spreading  a  horrible  scarlet  glare  through  the 
room  which  coloured  every  object,  every  shadow, 
blood-red. 

The  imprisoned  wretch  kept  nmning  frantically 
up  and  down  the  room  Kke  a  wild  beast  caught  in 
a  trap,  striking  the  walls  with  his  fist  and  hacking 
at  the  beams  with  his  axe. 

In  vain,  in  vain,  slash  away  as  you  will,  neither 
on  the  right  hand  nor  on  the  left,  neither  from 
above  nor  from  below,  is  there  any  way  of  deliver- 
ance! 

At  last,  in  his  despair,  he  began  to  sing  the  hymn  :i 

"  On  Sion's  HiU  the  Lord  is  God    •        .    l" 


944  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

and  collapsed  upon  his  knees  in  the  midst  of  the 
room. 

And  lo!  the  Lord  answered  the  man  who  cried 
out  to  Him  in  his  dire  extremity.  The  boards  re- 
sounding beneath  him  suddenly  gave  him  a  bright 
idea  of  deliverance.  Above  and  around  there  was 
no  place  of  safety,  but  might  there  not  be  a  refuge 
below — down  in  the  cellar? 

The  entrance  into  the  cellar  was  from  the  outside 
by  an  iron  door ;  but  if  the  vault  beneath  the  room 
where  he  was,  the  ceiling  of  which  had  resounded 
so  loudly  beneath  his  footsteps,  if  this  vault  were 
broken  open,  it  would  be  possible  to  get  down  into 
it  that  way. 

Ah !  how  nice  and  cool  it  would  be  down  there. 
The  atmosphere  of  the  room  was  now  burning  hot 
Terror  and  exertion  had  bathed  every  limb  of  the 
headsman  with  sweat ;  the  glare  of  the  iron  windows 
was  merging  into  a  dazzling  white,  and  radiated  a 
heat  that  burnt  the  eye  that  looked  upon  it.  There 
was  no  time  to  be  lost 

Zudar  hastily  broke  up  the  floor  with  his  axe,  it 
w^ould  not  be  difficult  for  him  to  find  the  key-stone 
of  the  cellar  beneath  it 

Nevertheless,  he  had  to  be  careful  lest  he  should 
stave  in  the  whole  vault,  and  thus  open  a  way 
therein  after  himself  for  the  fire.  He  must 
cautiously  pick  out  the  mortar  from  the  interstices 
with  a  knife,  and  lift  up  the  bricks  one  by  one. 

And,  now  and  then,  in  the  midst  of  his  work,  he 
would  stop  and  Hsten. 


IN  THE   MIDST  OF  THE   FIRE.        145 

And  then  he  would  hear  on  every  side  of  him  a 
hubbub  of  wild  voices,  hissing,  shrieking,  savage 
dance-music,  and  bloodthirsty  harangues. 

Or  WcLS  it,  after  all,  but  the  many-voiced  gabble 
of  the  flames  above  his  head? 

And  on  he  went — digging,  digging,  digging. 

The  first  layer  of  bricks  over  the  vault  was 
followed  by  a  second  This  cellar  vault  had  been 
very  strongly  built,  it  was  well  lined  with  a  double 
row  of  bricks.  And  he  had  to  pick  out  each  brick 
of  the  second  layer  as  carefully  as  he  had  done 
with  the  first 

Meanwhile,  in  the  roof  above  him,  a  rafter  here 
and  there  was  gaping  open,  and  fiery  monsters,  with 
blood-red  eyes,  were  peeping  down  at  him  and  puff- 
ing clouds  of  blue  smoke  through  the  interstices. 
Thousands  and  thousands  of  voices  were  bickering 
and  chattering  with  each  other,  the  voices  of  the 
fire-spirit's  little  ones  quarrelling  with  each  other 
over  every  little  bit  of  rafter  till  their  old  mother, 
the  evil  flame,  burst  roaring  through  a  huge  tough 
beam  and  frightened  them  into  silence.  And,  all 
the  time,  something  was  humming  and  crooning 
like  a  witch  hushing  little  children  to  sleep;  and 
in  the  midst  of  the  charred  and  smouldering  embers 
a  buzzing  and  a  fizzing  was  going  on  continually, 
like  the  noise  made  by  an  imprisoned  bee ;  and  the 
pent-up  blast  howled  dismally  down  the  chimney : 
Hoo!  hoo!  boo! 

"  They  are  dancing  and  singing  outside  there !  * 
murmured  the  headsman  to  himself. 


a46  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

And  now  the  second  layer  of  bricks  was  also 
pierced,  and  up  through  the  rift,  Uke  a  blast  of  wind, 
rushed  the  cold  air  of  the  cellar.  Peter  Zudar  bent 
low  over  the  gap  and  filled  his  lungs  with  a  good 
draught  of  the  life-giving  air.  He  regularly  in- 
toxicated himself  with  it 

The  gap  was  just  big  enough  to  enable  him  to 
squeeze  through  it. 

First,  however,  with  perilous  curiosity,  he  cast 
a  look  round  the  room  he  was  about  to  leave.  The 
principal  girder  of  the  ceiling  was  bent  in  the  middle 
from  the  intense  heat,  smoke  was  pouring  into  the 
room  through  every  crack  and  crevice,  and  filled  it 
already  to  the  height  of  a  man's  stature;  it  was 
slowly  descending  in  regular  layers,  lower  and  lower, 
like  a  gradually  falling  cloud. 

Little  fluttering  fiery  threads  were  darting  hither 
and  thither,  in  the  grey  cloud,  like  tiny  flashing 
birds.  The  fiery  spectre,  peeping  through  the  rent 
in  the  roof,  was  already  laughing  a  thunderous  "  ha  I 
ha !  ha !  '*     Peter  Zudar  laughed  back  at  it, 

"  If  thou  dost  laugh,  I  can  laugh  too,  so  the  pair 
of  us  may  laugh  together !  " 

Already  he  had  crept  half  through  the  opening, 
whence  he  observed  how  the  beams  were  curving 
above  his  head,  how  they  were  bursting  and 
charring. 

All  at  once  he  recollected  something. 

Hastily  he  scrambled  out  of  the  hole  again.  To 
walk  upright  in  that  room  was  impossible,  for  the 
clouds  of  smoke  were  now  only  three  feet  from 


IN  THE   MIDST  OF  THE   FIRE.        »47 

the  ground.  He  crept  along  the  floor  on  all  fours 
to  his  oaken  chest,  opened  it,  snd  drew  forth  there- 
from a  little  Prayer  Book  and  a  couple  of  ribbons, 
which  he  thrust  into  his  bosom. 

Then  he  also  drew  forth  a  long  leather  bag  which 
was  fastened  at  each  end  by  a  clasp.  These  clasps 
he  opened,  one  by  one,  with  the  utmost  composure. 
Inside  lay  the  fallosy*  that  bright,  two-edged 
implement  which  flashes  at  the  command  of  the 
criminal  law,  the  weapon  of  Justice. 

When  Peter  Zudar  felt  it  in  his  hand,  his  gigantic 
figure  suddenly  arose  bolt  upright,  and  there  he 
stood  amidst  the  smoke,  amidst  the  flames,  like  an 
avenging  demon,  slashing  about  him  with  his 
sparkling  blade  as  if  he  would  say  to  the  smoke  and 
the  flames,  "  Fear  me !  I  am  the  headsman !  " 

At  that  moment  a  thundering  crash  resounded 
behind  him.  His  gun,  which  had  been  leaning  up 
against  the  wall,  suddenly  exploded  by  reason  of 
the  intense  heat,  and  the  bullets  penetrated  the  wall 

The  shock  recalled  Zudar,  whom  a  sort  of  frenzy 
had  seized  for  a  moment,  to  his  senses,  and  quickly 
crouching  down  upon  the  floor,  he  tore  a  cushion 
from  the  bed  and  dragging  it  after  him,  crept 
towards  the  gaping  hole  in  the  floor.  The  cushion 
he  flimg'down  before  him  and  then  leaped  carefully 
after  it 

The  cool  air  of  the  cellar  gradually  restored  him 
Id  himself  again ;  the  oppression  of  the  fierce  heat 

*  The  sword  of  the  public  executioner. 


9i$  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

no  longer  tortured  his  brain,  the  semi-darkness  was 
so  grateful  to  his  eyes,  already  half-blinded  by  the 
flames,  a  semi-darkness  but  faintly  illuminated  by 
the  gleam  of  the  fiery-world  above  shining  through 
the  gap. 

Then  it  occurred  to  him  that  this  very  gap  was 
now  superfluous. 

In  the  stands  of  the  cellar  were  several  casks, 
large  and  small,  either  empty  or  full  of  beer  and 
wine. 

He  rolled  one  of  the  empty  casks  below  the  hole 
in  the  ceiling,  and  tinned  it  upside  down.  Then  he 
stove  in  the  top  of  a  beer-cask  and  dipped  into  it 
the  cushion,  allowing  the  beer  to  well  soak  through 
it  Then  he  moimted  on  the  top  of  the  empty 
cask  and  thrust  the  saturated  cushion  into  the  hole 
above. 

It  was  now  quite  dark  in  the  cellar,  but  Peter 
Zuddr  knew  his  way  about  there  all  the  same.  He 
was  well  aware  of  the  exact  locality  of  the  best  cask 
of  beer,  and  lost  no  time  in  staving  in  tjbe  top  of 
it,  found  a  pitcher  in  a  niche  close  at  hand,  fllled  il 
with  fresh  beer,  sat  him  down  by  the  side  of  the 
barrel,  and  took  a  monstrously  long  pull  at  his 
pitcher.  After  that  he  moistened  well  his  head 
and  face,  and  then  he  replenished  his  pitcher  and 
took  another  long  draught 

Above  his  head  there  the  roof  now  fell  in  with 
a  loud  loar  and  a  crash,  and  the  whole  tribe  of 
flames  laughed  and  roared  in  their  joy  at  having 
done  their  work  so  well 


IN    THE   MIDST  OF  THE  FIRE.         349 

"  We  have  roasted  his  goose  for  him,  anyhow  1 " 
cried  Dame  Zuddr  outside,  and  her  band  of  rogues 
and  scoundrels  laughed  and  bounded  for  joy. 

But  down  in  his  undergroimd  asylum  the  old 
headsman  sang  from  the  depths  of  a  fervent  heart  1 

••  To  thee,  O  Lord  1  on  Sion's  Hill, 
All  praise  and  glory  be." 

And  he  drew  his  fingers  along  the  double  edge 
of  the  sword — right  well  had  it  been  sharpened^ 
nowhere  was  there  the  trace  of  a  notch,  nowhere. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  LEATHER-BELL. 

We  Magyars  are  very  liberal  in  the  distribution  of 
nicknames,  in  this  respect,  indeed,  our  fancy  out- 
runs that  of  the  Princes  of  the  Orient,  and  the  titles 
we  bestow  are  even  more  appropriate  than  theirs. 

In  Hetfalu  "  Leather-bell "  was  the  nickname  of 
a  peculiar  man,  whose  real  name  had  quite  slipped 
out  of  everybody's  memory.  This  derisive  epithet 
was  given  to  him  by  the  housewives  to  whom  he 
used  to  convey  all  the  local  gossip,  to  wit:  who  it 
was  who  died  to-day,  where  he  was  going  to  be 
buried,  whose  turn  it  was  to  work  for  the  castle  this 
day  or  that,  who  was  doing  the  rector's  cooking 
for  him,  &c.,  &c.,  &c.  This  was  the  name  he  went 
by  throughout  the  parish  when  he  went  about  telling 
everybody  in  which,  house  there  was  going  to  be 
a  birth,  a  marriage,  or  a  funeral ;  who  was  in  need 
of  the  last  sacraments,  or  how  much  wine  the 
squire  gave  for  the  use  of  the  Lord's  Table.  This 
was  the  title  by  which  he  was  greeted  at  the  castle, 
where  he  religiously  presented  himself  to  inform 
the  good  folks  there  where  serviceable  domestics 
could  be  got,  or  where  anything  was  to  be  sold,  or 


THE   LEATHER-BELL.  251 

what  were  the  current  prices  of  corn  and  poultry. 
He  himself  was  half  the  servant  of  the  gentry,  and 
half  the  servant  of  the  community  ;  nay,  he  belonged 
somewhat  to  the  village  priest  cdso,  and  indeed  to 
any  good  fellow  who  had  a  glass  of  beer  to  offer 
him.  He  was  perpetually  scurrying  from  house  to 
house,  from  the  local  magistrate's  residence  to  the 
market-place,  from  the  market-place  to  the  castle, 
from  the  castle  to  the  parsonage,  from  the  parson- 
age to  the  miller's,  the  pot-house,  and  the  tavern, 
thence  into  the  fields,  and  thence  again  into  the 
courtyards.  He  would  pick  up  something  here  and 
something  there,  something  he  might,  perhaps,  have 
heard  at  the  church  porch  or  up  in  the  belfry; 
or  something  would  catch  his  ear  as  he  was 
dawdling  among  the  wziggons  on  a  market-day, 
and  he  would  immediately  run  and  repeat  it  at  the 
miller's.  By  the  time  he  had  reached  the  pot-house 
he  would  hear  his  own  invention,  already  well 
amplified  and  nicely  embellished,  circulating  from 
mouth  to  mouth  as  an  absolute  fact  Whereupon 
he  would  dash  off  with  this  enlarged  edition  of  it 
to  the  castle,  stopping,  however,  to  tell  it  to  every 
Uving  soul  he  met  on  the  way  with  all  the  variations 
which  struck  him  as  most  appropriate  on  the  spur 
of  the  moment,  so  that  he  really  well-earned  the 
epithet  of  **  Leather-bell,"  inasmuch  as  he  was  per- 
forming all  the  functions  of  a  bell,  and,  nevertheless^ 
was  covered  with  a  coat  of  skin  or  leather.* 

*  The  HungariaD  word  "  bor  "  means  both  skin  and  leather. 


059  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

On  this  particular  momentous  evening,  the 
Leather-bell,  all  hurry-scurry,  rushed  into  the  porch 
of  the  castle,  where  the  old  lord  of  the  manor  was 
nursing  his  invalided  limbs  in  an  ample  easy  chair, 
having  so  disposed  himself  as  to  be  able  to  conmiand 
a  view  of  the  western  sky,  still  lit  up  by  the  faint 
hues  of  sunset 

Once  upon  a  time  the  Leather-bell  must  have  been 
a  tall  man,  but  excessive  salutations  had  so  bent  his 
back,  and  an  incessant  to-ing  and  fro-ing  had  given 
his  head  such  a  forward  inclination,  that  whoever 
beheld  him  now  for  the  first  time  must  needs  have 
suspected  him  of  an  intention  to  run  straight  tmder 
the  table  incontinently.  He  was  the  very  image 
of  obsequiousness,  and  he  presented  his  back  to 
the  world  as  though  he  would  say :  "  Smite  away 
at  it  whoever  has  a  mind  to." 

Old  Hetfalusy  liked  to  see  the  man.  He  had 
leave  to  come  and  go  whenever  he  chose.  He  was 
free  to  relate  serious  matters  with  a  smiling  face, 
and  amusing  incidents  in  a  whining  voice,  especially 
as  the  points  of  all  the  jokes  generally  turned 
against  himself. 

"I  kiss  your  honour's  hand,"  said  the  Leather- 
bell,  depositing  his  hat  and  stick  in  the  doorway. 
"I  kiss  yotir  hand  (and  kiss  it  he  did  there  and 
then).  How  frightfully  hot  it  is  outside,  and  oh! 
what  a  lot  of  dust  Those  boors  are  always  routing 
it  up  with  their  ox-waggons.  They  make  all  the 
dust,  I  do  believe.  My  throat  is  full  of  it,  and  it  lies 
heavy  on  my  chest    Oh  no!  I  humbly  thank  your 


THE  LEATHER-BELL.  »$$ 

honour !  Don't  put  yourself  about !  Til  not  have  a 
drink.  Yes,  I  really  mean  it  I  didn't  say  I  was 
thirsty  on  that  account  Wine  does  not  suit  my 
constitution  at  this  time  of  day.  Besides,  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  I  have  had  some  already.  For  how  else 
could  I  endure  this  terrible  heat  and  this  horrible 
dust  It  weighed  so  upon  my  chest  that  I  was 
obliged  to  look  in  at  Samsi's  tavern  for  an  instant 
Oh  no!  I  assure  you  I  did  not  go  there  on  that 
account  I  only  wanted  to  have  a  word  or  two  with 
my  good  friend  the  mzigistrate.  He  was  not  there^ 
it  is  true,  but  instead  of  him  I  found  the  sworn 
jurors,  Spletyko  and  Hamza,  and  a  couple  of 
peasants,  who  thereupon  seized  and  offered  me 
some  brandy  to  drink.  Your  honour  will  graciously 
undersfcind  that  I  don't  like  brandy  very  much,  my 
constitution  won't  stand  it/-  and  then  it  was  only  the 
afternoon,  anci  it  is  not  wholesome  to  drink  so  early. 
So,  says  I,  thank  you,  but  I  won't  take  any,  where- 
upon every  man  jack  of  them  fell  fiercely  upon  me. 
*  Oh,  ho ! '  they  cried, '  so  you  too  have  already  been 
primed  what  to  drink  and  what  not  to  drink,  eh? 
So  they  have  told  you  that  the  brandy  has  been 
poisoned,  eh?* 

" '  What  do  you  mean?  *  I  cried. 

"'The  brandy  is  poisoned* 

"  *  Who  has  poisoned  it?  * 

** '  Whjo  but  the  bigwigs  themselves.' 

" '  Fire  and  flames !  here  goes !  *  I  shouted  in  my 
horror,  and  forthwith,  just  to  show  my  indignation, 
I  seized  and  emptied  every  glass  I  could  get  hold 
of  one  after  the  other. 


154  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

"  *  Poison,  eh !  *  says  I,  '  poison !  how  can  it  be 
poison  if  I  drink  it?  Tm  as  alive  as  ever  I  was, 
ain't  I?' 

"'Well/  says  that  squinting  blockhead  Hamza, 
*if  there's  no  poison  in  that  cask  there  is  in  the 
other,  so  draw  us  some  out  of  that,  Samsi !  * 

"But  Samsi  durst  not  leave  the  room,  he  made 
out  that  an  ague  was  shaking  him,  so  his  wife 
went  instead  of  him  down  into  the  cellar  in  the 
presence  of  the  two  sworn  jurors,  and  brought  a 
sample  for  tasting  out  of  every  cask.  I  assure  your 
honour  it  was  very  hard  upon  me,  for  brandy  does 
not  suit  me  at  sdl,  yet,  out  of  gratitude  to  your 
honour,  I  drank  all  this  new  stuff  likewise.  It  is  a 
marvel  to  me  that  I  didn't  grovel  on  the  ground  and 
root  up  the  earth  with  my  nose,  so  much  did  I  drink. 

***Well,'  cried  I,  'should  I  not  be  dead  by  this 
time  if  there  was  really  poison  in  it?  * 

**  All  that  squinting  Hamza  could  say  in  reply  was : 

"'Well,  if  there's  none  in  to-day  there  will  be 
some  in  to-morrow.' 

** '  Very  well,'  says  I,  *  I  will  come  to-morrow  also^ 
and  the  day  after  to-morrow  likewise ;  and,  in  fact, 
every  day,  and  Til  taste  every  one  of  your  drinks, 
one  after  the  other,  and  show  you  that  Fm  none  the 
worse.' 

"  Those  were  my  very  words.  And  I'll  do  it  too, 
your  honour,  that  I  wiU,  although  it  will  be  very  hard 
upon  me,  for  I  can't  abide  spirits.  But  I  won't  allow 
your  honour's  noble  family,  to  whom  I  owe  so  much, 
to  be  maligned  by  any  pack  of  boors  in  the  world.** 


THE  LEATHER-BELL.  255 

Old  H^tfalusy  let  the  Leather-bell  rattle  on,  per- 
haps he  did  not  even  listen  to  him.  He  paid  as 
little  attention  to  the  tongue  of  the  Leather-bell  as 
he  did  to  the  clapper  of  the  bell  that  hung  in  the 
church  tower,  perhaps  less.  For,  indeed,  in  the 
solemn  sonorous  ding-dong,  ding-dong  of  the  church 
bell,  those  who  have  ears  to  hear,  and  still  preserve 
memories  of  the  past,  may  recognise  the  voices  of 
the  dead  telling  them  all  manner  of  mysterious 
thmgs. 

The  brilliant  exposition  of  the  Leather-bell  was 
interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  Dr.  Sarkantyiis,  who 
drove  into  the  courtyaird  in  a  wretched  chaise, 
dragged  along  by  a  couple  of  rustic  nags,  and  im- 
mediately hastened  up  to  the  Squire. 

The  Leather-bell  hastened  forthwith  to  the  chaise 
in  order  to  take  out  the  doctor's  things,  and  as  it 
was  his  ambition  to  load  himself  with  as  many  boxes 
and  packages  as  he  could  seize  upon  before  the 
arrival  of  the  domestic  heydukes,  he  managed  in  his 
excess  of  zeal  to  drop  three  of  the  parcels  on  to 
the  ground,  one  of  which  immediately  burst  asunder, 
and  a  stream  of  whitish  powder  poured  forth  upon 
the  marble  floor. 

The  doctor  turned  upon  him  furiously. 

"  Am  I  not  always  telling  you  not  to  load  yoturself 
so  much  ?  You  see  the  result,  all  my  bismuth  powder 
wasted" 

Til  soon  pick  it  all  up  again,"  said  the  Leather- 
bell  submissively,  and  going  down  on  his  ham- 
bones  he  began  sweeping  into  the  palm  of  his  hand 


256  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

what  had  been  spilt  and  putting  it  back  with  the 
rest 

At  this  the  doctor  was  ready  to  thrash  him  on 
the  spot 

"  What !  mix  what  is  all  full  of  dust  with  what  is 
still  pure — go  to  the  devil !  " 

"  I  humbly  ciave  your  pardon,  doctor,  but  wouldn't 
it  do  for  the  cattle?  "  asked  the  mischief-maker  with 
an  obsequious  smile. 

"  Cattle  indeed !  Does  the  fellow  suppose  I  cany 
about  drugs  for  pigs  and  oxen." 

"  I  mean  there's  so  much  of  it" 

"  None  too  much  for  such  cattle  as  you,  but  now 
what  has  been  spilt  must  be  swept  away." 

And  the  doctor  snatched  the  damaged  box  from 
the  fellow's  hands,  and  hastened  into  the  house  with 
it 

The  Leather-bell  remained  kneeling  on  the 
ground,  staring  amazedly  with  foolish,  wide-open 
eyes  at  the  spilt  powder.  Then  he  moistened  the 
tip  of  his  index-finger  in  his  mouth,  and  dipping  it 
gingerly  in  the  powder,  transferred  a  tiny  morsel 
thereof  to  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  and  instantly  fell 
expectorating  in  every  direction.  At  last  he  franti- 
cally scraped  a  good  bit  of  it  together,  drew 
his  handkerchief  from  his  breast-pocket,  shovelled 
a  portion  of  the  suspicious  substance  into  it, 
looking  round  cautiously  all  the  time  in  case  any- 
one should  see  him,  then  shuffled  out  of  the  hall, 
departed  from  the  courtyard  by  way  of  the  garden, 
and,  once  free  of  the  house,  set  off  running  rapidly 


THE  LEATHER-BELL.  257 

towards  the  inn  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  as 
if  the  most  fleet-footed  of  horrors  were  behind  him, 
his  head,  as  usual,  being  a  good  yard  or  so  in 
advance  of  his  feet 

When  he  entered  the  tavern  it  never  once  struck 
him  how  very  calm  and  peaceful  it  happened  to 
be  there  at  that  particular  moment  Mr.  Mzirtin 
Csicseri,  the  village  justice,  was  sitting  at  the  head 
of  the  table,  and  before  him  on  the  table  lay  his 
long  hazel  stick. 

"  I  wish  you  a  very  good  evening,  my  dear  Mr. 
Justice  and  good  Mr.  Comrade,  if  I  may  make  so 
free.  *Tis  a  good  job  you  are  here.  And  where 
may  Hamza  and  Spletyko  be  ?  " 

The  village  justice  regcirded  him  angrily. 

"  They  are  in  a  very  good  place  where  they  will 
do  no  mischief — ^the  stocks." 

"  Really?  Well,  they  will  certainly  be  well  looked 
after  there.  All  the  same  it  is  a  great  shame  they 
are  not  here  just  now."  Then,  lowering  his  voice 
mysteriously,  he  added :  "  Well,  my  honoured  com- 
rade, I  myself  can  now  say  that  it  is  all  up  with 

US. 

"How  is  it  all  up  with  us?"  inquired  Martin 
Csicseri,  leaning  both  elbows  heavily  on  the  table. 

"Oh,  ifs  all  up  with  us  in  every  way,  all  up, 
all  up ! "  wailed  the  Leather-bell,  rapidly  pacing  up 
and  down  the  room,  cind  pressing  his  head  betwixt 
his  hands.    "  It  is  all  up  with  the  whole  village." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  how  it  is  all  up  with  us,  you 
old  woman,  you.    Are  you  aware  that  this  stick  has 

R 


aSS  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

an  end  to  it,  and  I  am  very  much  inclined  to  give  it 
some  work  to  do  on  your  back  this  instant?  " 

The  fellow  made  as  if  he  would  simply  answer  the 
justice's  question,  yet  all  the  while  he  kept  glancing 
about  him  timidly,  till  five  or  six  inquisitive  rustics 
had  also  gathered  around  him,  only  then  did  he 
exclaim  in  a  strident  whisper:  "The  poison  has 
already  arrived ! " 

"  You're  a  fool ! "  cried  the  justice,  starting  back 
as  he  spoke. 

"  I  am  not  I  have  seen  and  tasted  it,  and  I  have 
brought  some  of  it  with  me.  The  doctor  himself 
admitted  that  the  coimty  authorities  had  sent  a 
large  tnmk  of  poison  hither,  and  were  going  to 
make  us  drink  it  The  box  was  in  my  hand.  I  lifted 
it  down  from  the  carriage.  Divine  Providence  so 
ordered  that  it  fell  from  my  hands,  and  a  whitish 
powder  poured  out  of  it.  The  whole  box  was  full 
of  that  powder.  The  doctor  was  horribly  fright- 
ened, and  swore  at  me  like  anything  for  my  clumsi- 
ness. I  saw  him,  I  tell  you,  he  grew  quite  yellow. 
I  merely  asked  whether  this  medicine  might  not  be 
for  the  cattle,  but  he  savagely  snatched  it  from  my 
hand,  and  said  he  would  make  our  heads  ache  with 
it" 

"Is  that  true?"  asked  a  terrified  boor  on  the 
other  side  of  the  table. 

"As  true  as  Tm  alive.  The  doctor  immediately 
ordered  the  domestics  to  sweep  the  spilt  powder 
away  lest  one  of  the  animals  should  taste  it  and 
.perish  instantly ;  but  I  managed  to  scrape  together 


THE   LEATHER-BELL.  159 

a  little  of  it  first,  and  here  it  is  in  the  comer  of  my 
handkerchief." 

And  the  Leather-bell  undid  his  handkerchief  and 
poured  the  powder  out  upon  the  table. 

The  boors,  with  the  fearful  inquisitiveness  of  pro- 
fessed connoisseurs,  carefully  regarded  the  strange 
awe-inspiring  powder  from  every  side — so  this  was 
the  murderous  instrument  of  extirpation. 

Some  of  them  had  heard,  somewhere  or  other, 
that  it  was  usual  to  make  preliminary  experiments 
with  such  poisons  on  the  brute-beasts.  One  of 
them  accordingly  smeared  a  piece  of  bread  with  the 
powder,  and  offered  it  to  a  large  shepherd's  dog 
extended  at  his  ease  beneath  the  table.  The  dog 
snififed  at  the  morsel  but  would  not  touch  it 

"Poison!  poison! "  cried  those  who  stood  around 
full  of  horror. 

"Didn't  I  say  so!"  cried  the  Leather-bell,  with 
a  radiant  face;  but  his  joyful  triumph  was  very 
speedily  embittered,  for  when  he  least  expected  such 
a  distinction,  he  became  sensible  that  the  long  hazel 
cudgel  of  the  village  justice  was  unmercifully 
belabouring  his  back  and  shoulders. 

"  You  good-for-nothing,  lying  wind-bag  you,  how 
dare  you  calumniate  your  own  landlord?  You 
hound  of  the  whole  village,  you !  that  barks  at  every 
man  behind  his  back,  and  licks  his  hand  when  he 
faces  you.  You  dare  to  come  hither  with  such  idle 
stories  at  a  time  when  there's  already  far  too  much 
discord  among  the  people!  You  good-for-nothing 
vagabond!    What!    I  suppose  you  want  the  peascint 


26o  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

folks  to  beat  the  landlords  to  death,  burn  their 
castles  to  the  ground,  and  rob  them  of  everything? 
Coward  and  rebel  as  you  are,  the  gallows-tree  is 
far  too  good  for  yoiL  I  tell  you  what  it  is.  I'll  put 
you  in  irons  and  send  you  to  the  county  jail,  and 
there  you  may  sit  till  your  turn  comes  to  stand 
before  the  judges.     You  incendiary,  you !  " 

The  Leather-bell  was  thoroughly  scaxed,  he 
began  to  hedge. 

"Alas!  my  dear  sweet  Mr.  Justice,  and  my  good 
friend,  don't  be  angry!  God  bless  me!  Why 
should  I  wish  our  landlord  beaten  to  death?  God 
preserve  us  from  anything  so  dreadful." 

"  Who  are  you  aiming  at  then?  " 

"  I  ?  Nobody  at  all.  Not  for  all  the  world  would 
I  injure  anyone.  Oh,  dear  no!  I  only  opened  my 
mouth  in  order  that  every  poor  mother's  son  of  us 
might  look  out  for  himself  and  guard  himself,  that's 
alL" 

"  Guard  himself ! — from  what?  " 

"  From  danger." 

"And  who  told  you  there  was  any  danger  here? 
Don't  you  know  that  the  doctor  has  a  long  way  to 
go,  and  many  people  to  cure,  and  must  therefore 
carry  a  great  many  drugs  along  with  him?  And 
you,  you  senseless  ass !  dropped  one  of  his  medicine 
boxes,  spilt  the  contents,  and  instantly  jumped  at 
the  conclusion  that  it  was  poison!  Poison!  your 
grandmother !  It  is  true,  no  doubt,  that  if  a  man  in 
health  takes  medicine  he  will  have  stomach-ache 
for  his  pains,  but  if  he  be  sick  the  same  medicine 


THE  LEATHER-BELL.  261 

will  cure  him.  Every  fool  knows  that  Drugs  are 
not  good  to  eat" 

A  couple  of  the  more  sensible  peasants  murmured 
approvingly  behind  him.  The  Leather-bell  stood 
confounded  before  the  magistrate,  and  made  a  sort 
of  downward  movement  with  his  hat,  as  if  he  would 
have  liked  to  scatter  to  the  winds  the  little  bit  of 
powder  still  lying  on  the  table. 

"And  now  tell  me,  you  seditious  idiot,  what 
might  not  have  happened  if  these  honest  men  here 
had  not  had  their  wits  about  them?  What  if  they 
had  believed  the  horrible  accusation  spread  by  you 
and  a  few  more  vagabond  busybodies  of  the  same 
kidney?  What  if  in  their  mad  terror  they  had 
fallen  foul  of  your  young  landlord,  who  has  done 
you  so  much  good,  and  shot  him  dead  before  your 
eyes?  What  if  they  had  dragged  his  father,  the 
old  squire,  out  of  bed  in  his  nightshirt,  and  burnt 
him  to  death?  What  would  you  have  done  then, 
you  good-for-nothing?  I  suppose  you  would  have 
sharpened  the  knife  that  cut  their  throats?  " 

The  knees  of  the  Leather-bell  smote  together; 
he  stammered  piteously  that  he  had  had  no  idea  that 
such  horrible  things  would  follow  from  what  he  said, 
that  he  had,  in  fact,  not  been  thinking  at  all  of 
what  he  was  saying. 

"Well,  you  will  have  plenty  of  time  to  think  it 
over  when  you  are  sitting  in  the  county  jail." 

The  Leather-bell  begged  and  prayed  that  he 
might  not  be  sent  there,  rather  shove  him  in  the 
stocks  alongside  Hamza.     He  admitted  that  he 


a6a  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

deserved  it;  but  if  they  liked  to  give  him  twenty 
or  thirty  blows  with  a  stick  instead,  he  would  take 
it  kindly  of  them.  He  had  meant  no  harm,  and  he 
would  never  spread  any  more  such  rumours. 

Meanwhile,  no  one  had  remarked  that  the  tap- 
room had  gradually  been  filling  with  silent,  savage- 
looking  forms,  one  of  whom^  while  listening  atten- 
tively to  the  conversation,  began  sweeping  the 
suspicious-looking  powder  into  the  palm  of  his  hand 

Mr.  Martin  Csicseri  was  so  far  moved  by  the 
piteous  lamentations  of  the  Leather-bell  as  to 
promise  not  to  cast  him  into  irons  and  send  him  to 
the  county  jail  as  a  fomenter  of  sedition. 

"  But  you  shall,  at  any  rate,  sit  in  the  stocks  till 
morning,  my  friend ! "  added  he.  "  Hie,  you  sworn 
jurymen,  come  forward  and  convey  him  thither." 

"Nay,  not  that  man!"  cried  a  voice  from  the 
crowd,  and  the  magistrate  beheld  Thomas  Bodza 
advancing  towards  him — ^by  the  side  of  the  long 
table. 

"  Whom  then?  "  cried  he. 

"Whom  but  yourself!"  exclaimed  Numa  Pom- 
pilius,  accompanying  his  words  with  the  gesture  of 
a  Roman  Senator. 

For  the  moment  it  occurred  to  the  magistrate  that 
the  worthy  rector  who  was  not,  as  a  rule,  addicted 
to  strong  drink,  had  actually,  for  once,  taken  more 
of  the  noble  juice  of  the  grape  than  was  quite  good 
for  him,  so  he  simply  laughed  at  him.  All  the  more 
astonished,  therefore,  was  he  when,  at  a  sign  from 
the  master,  two  strange  men  rushed  upon  him  and 
seized  his  hands  fast 


THE  LEATHER-BELL.  263 

He  had  never  seen  their  faces  before,  they  were 
men  who  did  not  belong  to  the  village. 

"  What's  the  meaning  of  this,  eh?  "  he  thimdered, 
giving  one  of  them  a  rattling  box  on  the  ear  and 
knocking  the  other  down.  It  was  of  no  use.  Ten 
at  least  instantly  threw  themselves  up>on  him,  seized 
his  hands  and  feet,  threw  him  to  the  ground  and 
bound  him  fast  One  or  two  of  his  acquaintances 
tried  to  defend  him  but  were  thrust  aside. 

So  long  as  the  tussle  lasted,  Thomas  Bodza  stood 
upon  the  table  with  the  pose  of  a  capitoline  statue^. 
whence  he  exclaimed  in  a  dictatorial  voice : 

"  It  is  now  for  me  to  command." 

The  pinioned  magistrate  continued  to  curse  and 
swear,  and  threaten  the  rioters  till  they  shoved  a 
gag  into  his  mouth.  As  for  the  Leather-bell,  he  hid 
himself  behind  the  fireplace  partly  to  avoid  blows, 
partly  from  a  fear  that  this  business  would  have 
unpleasant  consequences,  and  he  might  be  called 
upon  to  give  evidence.  He  wanted  neither  to  hear 
nor  see  anything  more. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  SENTENCE  OF  DEATa 

The  candles  were  burning  on  the  table  though  it 
was  broad  daylight,  the  bells  were  tolling  though 
nobody  was  sick,  the  coffin  had  also  been  made 
ready  though  nobody  was  dead. 

The  hard  sentence  had  been  pronounced  over  the 
poor  sinner,  he  must  die.  The  law  demanded  his 
head.  If  his  dear  father  and  mother  and  all  his 
brothers  and  sisters  were  to  plead  for  him  all  day 
long  they  could  not  wash  away  the  strict  letter  of 
the  law  with  their  tears. 

All  those  who  sat  by  the  long  table,  the  captains^ 
lieutenants,  and  common  soldiers,  all  of  them  wished, 
longed,  to  avoid  uttering  the  fatal  word.  The 
General  himself  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  as 
he  uttered  the  words : 

"  With  God  there  is  mercy !  " 

In  his  hand  he  held  a  httle  staff,  a  httle  white 
staff.  From  time  to  time  he  glances  at  it,  it  is 
still  whole,  still  smooth  and  unbroken. 

The  old  sergeant-major  approaches  him,  his  shako 
on  his  head,  his  storm-belt  strapped  down  over  his 


THE   SENTENCE   OF  DEATH.  265 

shoulder,  one  hand  by  his  side,  the  other  touchin|^ 
the  band  of  his  shako. 

"Mercy,  General,  for  the  poor  condemned 
prisoner !  " 

"  With  God  only  there  is  mercy." 

Again  the  sergeant-major  raises  the  tip  of  his 
palm  to  the  cord  of  his  shako  and  makes  his 
petition. 

"Mercy,  General,  for  the  poor  condemned 
criminal ! " 

A  third  time  he  utters  his  appeal. 

"  With  God  only  there  is  mercy,"  is  the  General's 
reply. 

The  little  white  staff  falls  to  the  gromid  broken 
in  two.  The  condemned  man  gives  a  sigh  of  relief, 
thanks  the  gentlemen  present  for  the  trouble  they 
have  taken,  the  good  sergeant-major  for  interceding 
on  his  behalf,  and  the  rigorous  judge  for  pro- 
nouncing over  him  the  sentence  of  the  law. 

Then  they  take  him  away  to  the  house  of  mourn- 
ing, give  him  a  white  imiform  to  put  on,  and  set 
meat  and  drink  before  him  that  he  may  eat  and 
drink  for  the  last  time. 

That  day  the  iron  man  was  afrciid  to  go  to  his 
own  quarters. 

Suppose  Cornelia  were  to  ask  him  what  sentence 
he  had  pronounced  upon  the  son  of  his  enemy? 

He  durst  not  go  home,  he  was  actually  afraid. 

He  was  still  brooding  there  when  the  gaoler  came 
to  tell  him  that  the  condemned  man  wished  to  say 
a  few  words  to  the  General  privately. 


266  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

Vertessy  hastened  to  him  at  once. 

"  You  defended  yourself  badly,"  said  he  reproach- 
fully on  entering,  "you  made  it  impossible  for  us 
to  pronounce  any  other  sentence." 

"I  know  that,  I  wished  it  so,"  replied  the  youth 
with  a  bright,  calm  countenance.  "  That  is  all  over 
now,  General ;  it  was  a  soldier's  duty  to  condemn  me. 
In  three  days*  time  I  am  to  die.  Take  it  as  if  I  was 
very  sick,  and  the  doctors  had  told  you  beforehand 
that  I  had  only  three  more  days  to  live." 

**  I  will  send  the  sentence  to  His  Majesty." 

**  It  would  be  useless.  Why,  even  you  can  advance 
nothing  in  my  defence,  and  I  have  myself  nothing 
to  allege  in  mitigation  of  my  sentence." 

"  But  I  know  everything.  Others  have  come 
forward  to  defend  you,  and  if  you  had  not  cut  the 
groimd  from  under  my  feet  by  your  defiant  answers 
before  the  court-martial,  I  might  have  devised  some 
means  of  saving  you." 

*  I  am  surprised  that  anyone  should  have  defended 
me.    I  know  of  none  who  might  bear  me  in  mind" 

**  Indeed  yes.     First  of  all  there  was  my  wife." 

"Ah!  General,  such  knowledge  will  make  my 
death  the  easier." 

"Then  there  was  the  man  you  fired  at  in  your 
stupid  jealousy." 

"Then  he  did  not  die  after  all?"  exclaimed  the 
youth  joyfully.    "  It  does  me  good  to  hear  that" 

"  That's  all  one  so  far  as  you  are  concerned.  You 
have  in  any  case  committed  a  capital  offence." 

"But  my  heart  is  the  easier,  nevertheless.    A 


THE  SENTENCE  OF  DEATH.  267 

load   has   been  removed  from  it    I   thank  you. 
What  you  have  said  will  shorten  my  last  moments." 

"  Your  third  advocate  was  your  father." 

"What?"  stammered  the  youth  with  trembling 
lips — "  my  father,  did  you  say? — my  own  father?  " 

"Your  own  dear  father.  He  wrote  to  me  with 
those  trembling  hands  of  his,  those  hands  which 
have  barely  recovered  from  a  paralytic  stroke.  He 
wrote  to  me  himself — do  you  realise  what  that 
means?" 

"  He  wrote  on  my  account !  "  whispered  the  con- 
demned man,  clasping  his  manacled  hands  together 
and  closing  his  heavy  eyelashes  over  his  moist  eyes. 

"Your  fourth  advocate  was  Count  Kamienszki, 
whose  sister  you  will  doubtless  remember." 

The  youth  looked  up  in  astonishment 

"I  have  no  recollection  of  such  a  person.  She 
had  no  brother." 

Vertessy  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"He  himself  told  me  so,  he  was  with  me  here 
to-day." 

A  struggle  with  a  torturing  suspicion  seemed  to 
be  going  on  in  the  young  soldier's  troubled  mind ; 
presently,  however,  he  turned  to  the  General  with 
a  radiant  countenance  and  said  to  him  with  a  smile : 

"All  these  thingsi.  General,  will  alleviate  my 
chastisement,  and  I  thank  you  for  telling  them  to 
me.  I  regret  that  my  misfortime  will  cause  others 
to  shed  tears  which  I  did  not  expect,  which  I  do 
not  desire ;  still,  they  will  greatly  ease  my  affliction. 
I  am  sure  that  you  too^  at  the  bottom  of  your  heart, 


268  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

forgive  me  and  my  poor  family — ^you  do  forgive  us, 
General,  do  you  not?  Will  you  not  even  go  further 
and  protect  that  poor  old  man  who  has  now  got 
nobody  to  stand  by  him? — ^will  you  not  be  his  pro- 
tector if  any  danger,  yes,  any  great  danger  should 
threaten  him?" 

The  General  pressed  the  young  man's  extended 
hand — ^the  chains  rattled  on  the  hand  that  he  held 
in  his. 

"  And  now,  General,  may  I  speak  to  you  of  a  very 
serious  matter?  Would  you  be  so  good  as  to  hear 
me  out?" 

"Say  on." 

"  And  you  will  not  take  what  I  am  about  to  tell 
you  as  the  mere  ravings  of  a  disordered  brain? 
Many  men's  brains  grow  disordered  at  the  approach 
of  death  I  know ;  you  will  not  imagine  that  I  am 
simply  delirious,  will  you?  You  will  believe  that 
I  am  well  and  with  all  my  wits,  sound  both  in  heart 
and  mind,  will  you  not?  " 

The  General  nodded. 

"  First  of  all  I  would  beg  you  not  to  postpone  my 
execution  for  the  usual  three  days.  Let  it  take 
place  sooner.  I  do  not  ask  this  for  my  own  sake. 
I  am  as  good  as  dead  already,  my  time  has  run." 

"  Why  do  you  make  this  request?  " 

**I  will  tdl  you  presently.  Then  I  would  beg 
you  not  to  conduct  me  outside  the  town ;  the  execu- 
tion could  take  place  just  as  well  inside  the  court- 
yard of  the  barracks." 

"Very  well,  I  will  promise  you  that* 


THE  SENTENCE   OF   DEATH.  269 

"And,  finally,  announce  the  execution  for  the 
afternoon  and  have  it  carried  out  in  the  morning, 
early,  at  break  of  day,  before  anyone  is  awake." 

"What  are  your  reasons  for  so  extraordinary  a 
request?  " 

"I  will  tell  you,  General.  You  know  right  well 
what  terrifying  rumours  have  been  circulating 
through  the  land  in  consequence  of  the  extra- 
ordinary, unprecedented  epidemic  now  raging  there. 
I  had  an  opportunity  of  discovering,  involuntarily, 
the  designs  of  sundry  malevolent  persons  who  looked 
upon  this  terrible  time  as  an  excellent  occasion  for 
carrying  out  their  nefarious  designs.  The  dregs 
of  the  population  have  been  roused  to  action,  cind 
only  await  the  signal  to  pour  their  ignorant,  brutal 
herds  all  over  the  kingdom.  This  is  no  idle  tale  I 
am  telling  you.  General  I  have  heard  their  seditious 
mutterings,  I  have  read  their  letters,  I  have  seen  the 
lists  of  the  names  of  those  who  are  to  fall  the  first 
victima  My  father's  name  stands  at  the  very  top 
of  the  list  His  peasants  have  always  hated  him  as 
much  as  they  have  loved  me.  One  of  the  leaders 
of  these  secret  conspirators  was  formerly  a  fellow- 
soldier  with,  me,  since  then  he  has  been  compelled 
to  quit  the  service.  I  accidentally  met  him  in 
Galicia,  where  he  was  pursuing  his  secret  plans. 
He  promised  to  hide  me  away,  and,  immediately 
afterwards,  went  and  denounced  me.  It  is  part  of 
his  infernal  plan,  when  I  am  led  outside  the  town 
and  a  large  crowd  of  people  have  come  together  to 
see  the  execution,  to  incite  the  mob  to  riot,  over- 


2^o  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

power  the  little  band  of  soldiers  guarding  me, 
release  me,  proclaim  me  far  and  wide  as  a  hero,  and 
use  my  name  as  the  means  of  provoking  a  general 
rising.  You  can  see,  General,  with  what  horror  I 
so  much  as  mention  this  affair,  you  can  see  that  I 
have  neither  dreamt  nor  imagined  it,  but  shudder 
at  it,  and  for  that  very  reason  would  hasten  on  my 
exit  from  this  world." 

The  General  really  did  believe  that  the  youth  was 
not  quite  in  his  right  mind. 

The  young  man  perceived  the  cold  smile  on  the 
General's  face,  and  convulsively  grasping  his  hand 
with  his  own  manacled  hands,  exclaimed  despair- 
ingly: 

"General!  they  would  murder  my  father,  they 
would  destroy  my  house,  my  nation !  " 

"  Who  forsooth  ?  "  inquired  the  General  with  an 
expression  of  unutterable  contempt  "  These  skulk- 
ing loafers,  eh?  I  will  not  presume  to  deny  that 
they  may,  perhaps,  intend  to  do  what  you  say,  such 
ideas  may  and  do  occur  at  times  to  some  blockhead 
or  other.  But  I  do  not  believe  that  the  time  will 
ever  come  for  the  realisation  of  such  projects.  But 
if  anybody  should  attempt  to  move  in  the  matter, 
I  solemnly  assure  you  that  at  the  very  first  outcry 
he  will  be  a  dead  man !  " 

And  he  tapped  his  sword  with  proud  self -con- 
sciousness. 

At  that  moment  an  adjutant  hastily  entered  the 
room  and  announced  that  there  were  suspicious 
gatherings  of  the  people  in  the  market-place  cind 


THE  SENTENCE  OF  DEATH.  ayi 

the  streets  of  the  town.  They  were  exclaiming 
loudly  against  the  gentry  and  the  soldiers,  and  were 
goading  one  another  on  with  incendiary  speeches. 
It  had  been  found  necessary  to  bar  the  gates  of  the 
town  hall  against  them,  and  the  windows  of  an 
apothecary's  shop  had  already  been  smashed 
Apparently  they  meant  to  give  most  of  their  atten- 
tion to  the  barracks  and  the  town  hall. 

The  General  had  no  sooner  hastened  out  of  the 
corridor  than  he  already  heard  in  the  adjacent 
streets,  that  vague  hubbub  whose  chaotic  voice 
sounds  so  terrifying  in  the  ears  of  the  'faint-hearted, 
who  know  not  whether  it  is  an  alcurm  of  fire  or  a  hue 
and  cry, after  a  murderer. 

On  the  present  occasion,  however,  there  was  both 
fire  and  murder  in  the  sound — it  was  a  riot 

In  a  distant  part  of  the  town  some  over-zealous 
guardians  of  public  order  had  set  ringing  the  alarm- 
bells,  whose  strident  semi-tones  rose  above  the  low 
hideous  murmur  of  the  mob. 

The  General  hastened  into  the  courtyard.  The 
soldiers  v/ere  already  standing  there  under  arms. 

There  was  scarcely  more  than  two  hundred  men 
there,  the  rest  were  a  long  way  off,  formii^  part 
of  the  far-stretching  military  cordon. 

This,  however,  was  quite  enough  for  Vertessy*s 
purpose. 

What  had  he  to  fear?  It  was  impossible  to 
conceive  that  the  honest  scythe  and  saddle  makers 
of  the  town,  the  peaceful  citizens  who  had  only  to 
do  with  planes  and  awls  and  shuttles^  would  dare  to 


212  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

attack  him  forcibly  and  compel  him  to  retire  before 
them. 

Swiftly,  but  with  the  utmost  sang  froid,  he  made 
his  preparations. 

Half  a  battalion  took  up  a  position  outside  the 
gate  guarding  every  approach,  the  rest  remained 
within  the  courtyard. 

The  rifles  of  the  soldiers  outside  the  gate 
remained  unloaded. 

At  three  rolls  of  a  drum  the  remaining  column 
also  marched  out  into  the  street 

A  single  word  of  conmiand  would  suffice  for 
subsequent  tactics. 

It  was  also  considered  necessary  to  close  the  gates 
of  the  neighbouring  house,  and  two  sentries  were 
posted  outside  it  with  loaded  muskets. 

All  this  was  done  in  the  most  perfect  order,  there 
was  no  hurry,  no  bustle. 

In  that  house  opposite  dwelt  the  General's  wife ; 
one  could  reach  it  from  the  barracks  across  a 
garden. 

Vertessy  had  just  completed  his  preparations 
when  Cornelia's  maid  came  hastening  up  to  him 
and  whispered  something  in  his  ear. 

For  a  moment  a  smile  of  delight  flashed  across 
the  General's  face,  which  immediately  afterwards, 
however,  formed  into  still  darker  folds  than  before. 

Hastily  transferring  the  command  to  his  first 
lieutenant,  he  hastened  to  his  dwelling,  promising 
to  be  back  in  a  moment 

It  must  indeed  have  been  a  matter  of  importance 


THE  SENTENCE   OF   DEATH.  273 

to  have  constrained  V^rtessy  to  quit  the  post  be- 
coming a  soldier  at  such  a  moment 

He  hastened  as  fast  as  he  could  go  to  his  wife's 
bedchamber. 

The  curtains  had  been  let  down,  in  the  semi- 
obscure  alcove  lay  a  pale  woman,  seemingly  a  corpse 
which,  nevertheless,  was  suffering  the  torments  of 
life. 

Domestics  were  gathered  rotmd  the  bed,  at  a 
table  sat  the  doctor  writing  something. 

V^rtessy  had  already  unfastened  his  sword  outside 
so  as  to  avoid  making  a  clatter.  He  now  rushed 
to  Cornelia's  side,  seized  her  trembling,  sweat- 
covered  hand,  and,  pressing  it  to  his  lips,  inquired : 

"How  do  you  feel?" 

*  On  the  threshold  of  death,"  answered  the  lady, 
and  with  her  other  arm  she  drew  down  her  husband's 
head  towcirds  her  that  she  might  kiss  it  Her  whole 
face  was  as  white  as  marble,  and  the  cold  sweat 
stood  out  upon  her  forehead  like  pearly  beads. 

"The  coming  hour  has  secrets  of  its  own, 
V6rtessy,"  lisped  the  lady,  pressing  Vertessy*s  hand 
in  her  own,  "whether  it  be  good  or  evil,  joy  or 
death." 

Vertessy*s  eyes  interrogated  the  doctor  as  if  he 
hoped  for  some  comforting  recissurance  from  him. 

The  doctor  beckoned  him  aside. 

"She  is  suffering  tortures,"  he  whispered,  "but 
ihe  would  hide  it  from  you." 

"  She  may  hide  it  in  her  voice,  but  I  can  tell  it  is 
so  from  her  breathing.     Is  the  danger  great?  " 

S 


a7d|j  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

The  doctor  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Pretty  much  as  usual  She  is  very  nervous,  and 
besides  that,  there  is  something  on  her  mind." 

"What  can  it  be?" 

"  It  would  be  as  well,  General,  if  you  ascertained. 
At  such  a  time  peace  of  mind  is  a  matter  of  life  or 
death,  and  fear  or  any  feeling  of  anxiety  might 
have  a  bad  effect  upon — a  new  life." 

At  the  words  "a  new  life"  that  invoiuntar/ 
gleam  of  joy  flashed  across  Vertessy's  lips  once 
more.  He  went  back  to  his  wife  and  knelt  down  on 
her  tapestried  cushion. 

"  Cornelia,  how  are  you?  " 

"  In  God's  hands,"  whispered  the  lady,  raising  her 
glorious  eyes.  "  God  chastises  and  is  merciful  as 
it  seemeth  Him  good." 

Her  convulsive  pressure  showed  Vertessy  what 
she  must  be  suffering. 

"  There  is  mercy  with  God,"  faintly  murmured  the 
lady  once  more. 

Vertessy  felt  his  heart  tremble  at  these  words. 
An  hour  before  he  also  had  said :  "  With  God  there 
is  mercy,"  and  that  to  a  man  who  had  promised  himr 
self  a  long  life. 

The  lady  turned  towards  him  with  a  languid  look, 
pressed  both  her  husband's  hands  to  her  breast,  and 
looking  long  and  painfully  into  his  eyes,  she 
asked : 

"  Will  God  be  merciful  to  me?  " 

**  To  thee,  my  angel? — yes ! — oh  yes !  "  stammered 
the  General 


THE  SENTENCE  OF   DEATH.  275 

"And  have  you  also  been  merciful  to  him  v/ho 
begged  you  for  mercy  ?  " 

V^rtessy  could  not  meet  that  look,  he  could  find 
no  words  to  answer  that  question. 

"Vertessy!  One  death  demands  another,  judg- 
ment is  requited  with  judgment.  I  am  standing 
on  the  edge  of  the  grave,  do  not  let  me  die." 

"What  am  I  doing,  what  can  I  do?"  said  her 
husband  with  a  faltering  voice 

"You  see,"  replied  his  wife,  winding  her  ami 
round  his  like  a  tender  creeping  plant  round  a 
sturdy  oalc,  "  it  you  slay,  I  must  die  also.  What  the 
condemned  man  in  the  neighbouring  house  suffers 
that  I  also  must  endure — his  terror,  his  despair,  his 
death-struggle.  Oh!  my  husband,  have  pity  upon 
me  Be  merciful  now  to  him  who  has  offended,  that 
I  also  may  find  mercy  with  God !  " 

Vertessy's  mind  was  much  disturbed.  And  now 
the  doctor  approached  him  and  solemnly  observed : 

"  General,  I  fancy  it  would  not  be  the  first  instance 
of  a  capitally  condemned  felon  being  pardoned  on 
the  plea  of  such  a  sufferer." 

Vertessy  regarded  him  abstractedly  as  if  to  beg 
him  to  proceed. 

"  I  knew  of  a  similar  case  when  I  was  in  service 
at  the  fortress  of  Comorn,  when  a  youth,  who  had 
thrice  deserted  the  ranks,  was  pardoned  in  con- 
sequence of  a  similar  petition." 

"  And  do  you  believe  that  it  would  do  good  ?  " 

"My  dear  sir,  when  the  exaltation  of  the  nerves 
has  reached  such  a  degree  as  this>  the  imagination 


2y6  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

is  omnipotent,  good  news  may  give  life,  bad  news 
death.  A  soothing  thought  in  such  cases  is  worth 
all  the  drugs  in  the  world. 

Vertessy  kissed  the  forehead  of  his  pale,  suffering 
weU-beloved,  and  cried  with  a  manly  emphasis, 
which  instantly  inspired  self-confidence: 

"I  will  save  him!" 

The  lady  raised  her  trembling  hands  and  her  pale 
features  to  Heaven,  her  eyes  slowly  closed,  and  a 
imile  of  joy  passed  over  her  white  face. 

Outside  resounded  the  threefold  roll  of  the  drums. 

The  General  arose,  hastened  to  the  door,  tied  on 
his  sword,  cind  rushed  towards  the  barracks. 

The  noise,  the  hubbub,  was  now  quite  cJose  at 
hand,  and  he  fell  a-thinking  how  he  could  best,  with 
fair  words,  persuade  these  turbulent  citizens  to  go 
back  to  their  homes  and  begin  weaving  linen  and 
stitching  boots  again^  though  he  longed  all  the  time 
to  storm  forth  amongst  them  and  like  a  tempeaik 
scatter  them  in  every  direction. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS. 

The  whole  of  the  broad  street  was  entirely  covered 
with  caps. 

It  was  impossible  to  see  anything  but  caps.  Here 
and  there  a  scythe  or  a  pitchfork  projected  from 
the  midst  of  the  throng,  but  the  larger  portion  of  the 
mob  was  xmarmed,  unless  slender  canes,  of  which 
there  were  a  great  number,  be  accounted  weapons. 

Here  and  there  in  the  midst  of  the  surging  crowd 
might  be  distinguished  simdry  honest  citizens  still 
IB  plain  clothes  indeed,  but  carrying  along  with  them 
bayonetted  muskets,  thereby  inspiring  the  rabble 
with  peculiar  valour>  the  common  people  always 
imagining  in  such  cases  that  the  national  guard  with 
its  bayonets  is  quite  equal  to  the  military. 

"  Halt!  "  a  voice  rung  out  in  front  of  the  crowding 
mass. 

At  the  sound  of  that  voice  the  hubbub  for  an 
instant  grew  stilL    The  mob  stopped  short 

"  Load  your  muskets !  " 

The  soldiers,  like  a  single,  many-handed  machine^ 
iD!R*;9^iy  brought  down  their  weapons  to  their  sidet 


278  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

with  a  clash,  and  the  clatter  of  the  loading-sticks  in 
the  barrels  of  the  muskets  was  distinctly  audible. 
Then  there  was  another  clatter,  and  every  musket 
was  instantly  pointed 

The  rioters  began  to  look  at  one  another,  and 
those  in  front  envied  the  position  of  those  in  the 
rear,  who  could  freely  use  their  lungs  without  the 
slightest  risk. 

And  now  the  General  rode  along  in  front  of  the 
noisy  mob  and  shouted  to  them  in  a  hard,  stem 
voice : 

"What  do  you  want?  What  is  the  matter  with 
you  ?     Why  are  you  obstructing  the  street  ?  " 

The  fellows  kept  elbowing  each  other  forward, 
and,  at  last,  one  of  them  exclaimed : 

"  Here  is  Master  Matthias  I  Let  Master  Matthias 
speak ! " 

"  Bravo,  Master  Matthias!  " 

And  suddenly  from  the  midst  of  the  mob  arose 
the  form  of  a  citizen  in  a  leather  apron,  with  a  shalco 
on  his  head,  and  a  musket  with  a  bayonet  attached 
thereto  in  his  hand.  He  was  passed  along  over  the 
heads  of  the  crowd,  from  shoulder  to  shoulder,  and 
finally  planted  on  his  feet  right  in  front  of  the 
General     This  was  Master  Matthias. 

Even  if  his  hands,  the  knuckles  whereof  were 
unwashably  embalmed  with  pitch,  had  not  of  them- 
selves betrayed  the  fact,  the  awl  hanging  beside  his 
leather  apron,  and  evidently  left  there  by  accident, 
would  have  declared  that  the  individual  in  question 
belonged  to  that  estimable  section  of  the  community 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS.  279 

wiiose  business  in  life  it  is  to  provide  humanity  with 
corns.  His  moustache  was  twisted  with  seven-and- 
seventy  ringlets,  and  he  had  the  habit  every  time 
he  opened  his  mouth  of  violently  shaking  his  head 
and  shrugging  his  shoulders  by  way  of  making  his 
words  the  more  emphatic 

Master  Matthias  was  a  famous  orator  of  the 
market-place,  a  toast-master  of  the  city  guilds,  a 
finished  wedding-feast  chaimmn,  and  a  recognised 
champion  swine-slayer,  he  was  consequently  re- 
nowned throughout  the  town. 

Nor  was  he  the  least  afraid  of  the  town,  or  the 
county  either,  or  even  of  the  General  himself,  as  he 
now  intended  to  show  him. 

So  there  he  stood  manfully  in  front  of  V6rtessy, 
twirling  his  crooked  moustache  from  end  to  end,  and 
banging  his  musket  on  the  ground  as  violently  as 
if  he  meant  to  smash  its  butt  end  to  pieces.  Then 
he  cleared  his  throat,  and  in  a  hoarsely  strident 
voice  gave  expression  to  the  following  sentiments : 

"  My  Lord  General,  whereas  it  has  happened,  so 
to  Sf)eak,  that  our  human  masses  in  this  comitavus* 
have  attained  to  extraordinary  dimensions,  and  inas- 
much as  the  honourable  imposteratusf  has  decided 
in  consequence  thereof  that  this  is  not  a  right  state 
of  things  at  all,  far  from  it,  and  right  they  are  too^ 
say  I,  for  the  members  of  the  city  guilds  have  far  too 
many  qualifications;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  they 

•  /.«.,  **Comitatus"  county. 

t  /.'.,  "  Compossessoratus,'  a  local  committee  of  landed  pro* 
prietors  for  assessing  taxation,  &e> 


sSo  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

are  quite  wrong,  inasmuch  as  our  journeymen  are  in 
coimtlessly  small  number  therein,  therefore  we  have 
resolved  that  as  everyone  is  talking  about  it,  so  it 
must  be,  and  not  otherwise.  For  great  is  the  desire 
of  the  enemy  to  make  an  impulse  in  this  kingdom. 
Moreover,  as  for  the  avoidcince  and  confirmation 
thereof,  the  plenipotentiaries  have  furthermore  re- 
solved that  the  'pothecaries  are  concocting  a  certain 
miasma,  by  which  decree  we  men  are  to  be  kept 
within  salutary  boundaries.  Such  finally  being  the 
case,  and  the  people  having  cognisance  thereof,  the 
secular  inhabitants  of  the  neighbouring  districts  and 
sequestrations  have  arisen,  and  want  to  know  what 
it  is  all  about  and  wherefore.  I  myself  am  not  able 
to  say  a  word  there  anent,  inasmuch  as  I  wish  not 
to  apprehend  it ;  but  so  much  I  can  say  for  certain, 
that  one  of  my  journeymen  on  his  way  to  the  fail 
had  his  feet  twisted  double  with  cramp,  and  I  know 
what  I  know.  If,  therefore,  my  Lord  General  so 
wishes  it,  and  considers  it  seasonable  that  men  foi 
the  common  good  of  the  kingdom  should  make  a 
revolution,  therefore  we  most  humbly  and  respect- 
fully petition  for  the  same.  And  we  are  not  foola 
eitiber." 

During  this  brilliant  and  particularly  ludd 
haxangue,  the  bolder  masses  of  the  mob  had  pushed 
right  forward,  and  it  seemed  highly  probable  that 
within  the  next  few  moments  the  arguments  of  the 
great  popular  orator  would  be  emphasized  by  fist- 
law.  V6rtessy,  on  the  other  hand,  quite  apart  from 
general  feelings  of  humanity  and  patriotism,  had  t 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS.  aSi 

still  stronger  reason  for  avoiding  tumult  and  blood- 
shed At  that  very  moment  his  sick  wife  lay  at  the 
threshold  of  death.  A  mere  volley,  a  single  hour  of 
street-fighting,  might  perhaps  be  the  death  of  her. 

In  this  agonising  situation  a  horseman  was  seen 
approaching  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  road 
Only  with  the  utmost  difficulty  could  he  force  his 
way  through  the  densely  packed  mob.  Indeed,  they 
would  not  have  stirred  a  stump  had  he  not  kept  on 
waving  in  his  hand  a  piece  of  paper,  and  shouting 
incessantly  that  this  was  a  proclamation  addressed 
to  the  people,  and  he  wanted  to  speak  with  their 
leader. 

"Who  is  the  worthy  leader  of  these  patriots?* 
he  exclaimed 

Vertessy  recognised  in  the  horseman  that  mys- 
terious Pole  whom  the  condemned  man  could  not 
recollect,  and  by  this  time  he  was  a  trifle  suspicious 
of  the  fellow  himself.  After  all,  he  began  to  think, 
there  might  be  some  coherency  in  the  words  of  the 
prisoner,  though  only  an  hour  ago  he  had  looked 
upon  them  as  the  mere  ravings  of  a  lunatic 

"Where  is  the  leader  of  the  people?"  cried 
Kamienszka,  urging  on  the  sweating  horse  towards 
the  nearest  open  space. 

Master  Matthias  proudly  pointed  to  the  wann 
swelling  bosom  which  lay  beneath  his  leather  apron, 
by  way  of  indicating  that  he  was  the  man. 

With  an  air  of  pathetic  dignity  Kamienszka 
handed  to  the  worthy  patriot  the  proclamation  of 
Numa  Pompilius,  in  which  that  worthy  confided  to 


»83  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

the  tailors,  cobblers,  and  bakers  of  the  city  ^e 
honourable  task  of  making,  stitching,  and  baking 
some  thousands  of  boots,  hose,  and  rolls  for  head- 
quarters to  be  delivered  immediately. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  cried  the  General  in 
French.  **  At  the  very  first  movement  I  shall  scatter 
these  men.** 

"  I  am  pouring  oil  upon  the  waters,"  replied  the 
young  horseman  in  the  same  language.  "Within 
an  hour  every  man  of  them  will  go  home." 

Master  Matthias  seized  the  document  with  both 
hands,  pressed  his  musket  betwixt  his  knees,  and 
read  the  proclamation  attentively  from  beginning 
to  end. 

The  impression  it  made  upon  him  could  be 
imagined  from  the  conduct  of  his  moustache,  which 
gradually  lost  its  martial  fierceness,  and  at  last  hung 
meekly  down. 

"  Six  thousand  pairs  of  boots — ^whew !  " 

Meantime,  a  skinny  fellow-citizen,  buttoned  up 
to  the  chin,  kept  on  stretching  his  scraggy  neck  a 
monstrous  distance  across  the  heads  of  three  rows 
of  other  burghers  standing  in  front  of  him,  with  his 
eyes  glued  all  the  time  upon  the  distant  document 
in  Master  Matthias*  hands.  This  was  Master 
Csihos,  known  by  the  token  over  his  shop  as  a 
member  of  the  honourable  guild  of  tailors. 

"  There  it  is ! — ^read  it  for  yourself !  "  cried  Master 
Matthias. 

The  long  arm  stretched  all  the  way  across  thiee 
rows  of  fellow-dtizens  standing  in  front  of  it,  and 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS.  aSj 

a  little  group  of  tailors  having  put  their  heads 
together  around  the  master-tailor,  he  read  out  the 
proclamation  in  a  loud  voice. 

"  Three  thousand  pairs  of  trousers  I  " 

The  head  of  the  guild  of  bakers  had  not  heard 
all  that  had  been  said,  but  the  words  "  bread  "  and 
"  rolls  "  had  tickled  his  ears  uncomfortably. 

The  fatal  prockmatian  had  in  a  few  moments 
made  the  round  of  the  assembly,  gradually  disap- 
pearing among  the  back  rows  of  the  mob.  And, 
wherever  it  passed,  it  left  behind  it  long  faces  and 
gaping,  speechless  mouths ;  the  tumult  subsided  into 
a  low  murmur  and  an  imeasy  whispering.  Master 
Matthias,  Master  Csihos,  and  the  chief  of  the 
Guild  of  Bakers  held  counsel  together  cheek  by 
jowl.  Those  in  the  rear  began  to  edge  away  along 
the  wall  as  if  it  was  no  concern  of  theirs. 

At  last  Master  Matthias  leaned  his  musket  against 
the  back  of  a  friend,  took  off  his  cap,  smoothed  out 
his  moustache,  and  approached  the  General  with  a 
very  dubious  expression  of  coimtenance,  at  the  same 
time  violently  scratching  the  back  of  his  neck. 

"  Your  pardon,  my  Lord  General  I "  cried  he;, 
"  possibly  your  honour  did  not  quite  understand  me. 
Although  I  never  said  that  things  were  this  or  that, 
neither  did  I  mean  the  other  thing,  whether  more  or 
less.  Nevertheless,  and  be  this  as  it  may,  and  withr 
out  prejudice,  I  am  well  aware,  as  also  are  all  my 
friends,  that  it  is  not  for  us  to  sit  in  judgment  on 
tlie  coimty  tribunals  or  on  you,  my  Lord  General-— 
very  much,  the  other  way  in  fact ;  and  if  impudent 


tS4  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

disturbers  of  the  public  peace  are  carrying  on  their 
games  amongst  us,  such  are  to  be  regarded  as  the 
dregs  of  humanity,  cind  we  on  the  contrary  see  our- 
selves obliged  to  turn  to  the  worshipful  coxmty 
magistrates  and  to  your  honour  that  ye  may  deign 
to  have  these  evil-minded  rioters  who  approach  our 
peaceful  towns  with  firearms  and  pitchforks  kept 
far  away  therefrom,  whereunto  we  also  and  the 
trainbands  of  this  town  volunteer  our  services, 
giving  it  to  be  and  understood  that,  at  my  Lord 
General's  command,  we  shall  be  found  ready  to  pour 
out  our  life-blood  in  defence  of  our  coimtry,  our 
town,  our  county,  and  our  prince.  To  the  gallow% 
say  I,  with  all  who  demand  of  us  six  thousand  pairs 
of  boots !    Your  poor  humble  servant !  " 

Vertessy  could  not  forbear  from  quietly  smiling  at 
this  discreet  coat-turning  rhetoric.  With  his  drawn 
sword  he  motioned  to  his  soldiers  to  lower  their 
weapons,  and  return  to  the  barracks,  simply  leaving 
the  usual  sentries  at  their  posts. 

The  noisy  eissembly  then  gave  one  long  cheer  for 
the  General,  and  after  threatening  every  sort  of 
distant  object  with  their  sticks  and  clenched  fists, 
tumultously  dispersed. 

Kamienszka,  after  the  odd  dispersal  of  the  rioters, 
trotted  alongside  the  General  into  the  courtyard  o£ 
the  barracks,  where  they  both  dismounted  and 
hastened  into  the  waiting  room.  Each  of  them 
had  something  urgent  to  say  to  the  other  which 
could  not  be  expressed  in  public 

"Sir,"   the   General   hastened   to   say,   he   was 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS.  185 

determined  to  have  the  first  word — "whoever  you 
are,  you  have  rendered  me  a  very  important  service 
which  I  hope  to  be  able  to  repay." 

"  I  come  from  the  midst  of  danger,  General," 
replied  the  heroic  lady  very  quickly,  like  one 
anxious  to  economize  his  moments  and  count  his 
words;  "a  dangerous  rebellion  has  broken  out  in 
the  midst  of  the  county,  anJ  by  mere  accident  I 
have  got  the  leading  strings  of  it  in  my  hands.  For 
a  moment,  however,  I  ran  the  risk  of  being  strung 
up  myself.  The  visitation  of  this  strange  epidemic 
has  afforded  a  band  of  desperate  fanatics  with  the 
opportimity  of  accomplishing  a  long-cherished 
design.  Here  is  the  proclamation  which  in  a  few 
days  will  fly  over  the  whole  realm." 

The  General  read  through  the  document  hzinded 
to  him  with  the  utmost  astonishment. 

**  Love  of  loot,  revenge,  popular  stupidity,  will  be 
powerful  allies  in  such  a  frantic  enterprise,  which,  if 
it  but  gain  the  upper  hand,  will,  in  a  few  weeks, 
change  the  whole  appearance  of  the  map  of  Europe. 
At  present  the  flame  is  but  a  tiny  one.  It  has  only 
burst  forth  in  a  few  villages.  To-night  they  are 
going  to  attack  the  Castle  of  Hetfalu.  That  will  be 
the  beginning  of  it" 

The  General's  face  quivered.  So  the  words  of 
the  condemned  man  had  been  true ! 

"There  they  will  murder  both  master  and 
servants.  Murdered  they  must  be  in  order  that 
the  participators  in  the  outbreak  may  find  retreat 
impossible.  This  will  be  the  beginning  of  a  desper- 
ate struggle." 


»B6  THE   DAY   OF   WRATH. 

« 

The  General  rang  a  bell.  He  whispered  a  few 
words  in  the  ear  of  the  adjutant  who  answered  the 
siimmons,  and  then  sat  down  and  began  writing 
very  rapidly,  at  the  same  time  beckoning  to  Kami- 
enszka  to  go  on. 

"General,  at  present  the  conflagration  may  be 
stamped  out  by  a  single  effort  A  bold  hand,  which 
does  not  shrink  from  a  bad  bum,  may  cover  up  the' 
mouth  of  the  volcano  if  instant  action  be  taken. 
But  not  a  day,  not  an  hour,  not  a  moment,  should  be 
lost.  The  thing  must  be  done  at  once.  In  a  day, 
an  hour,  a  moment,  things  might  happen  which 
could  never  be  made  good  again." 

A  rattle  of  chains  was  audible  at  the  door,  two 
sentries  were  bringing  in  the  prisoner,  behind  them 
came  the  provost-martiaL 

The  General,  who  never  ceased  writing,  thus 
addressed  him : 

"Young  man!  have  those  chains  taken  off  your 
bands,  ask  my  adjutant  for  a  sword,  and  gird  it 
on!'* 

Young  Hetfalusy  opened  his  eyes  wide  with 
astonishment  He  allowed  them  to  take  the  chains 
ofiE  his  hands,  and  gird  a  sword  to  his  side,  and  did 
not  at  once  observe  that  a  couple  of  yards  away 
from  him  stood  a  strange  youth,  who  found  it  very 
hard  not  to  burst  into  tears,  and  fall  upon  his  neck 
at  the  sight  of  him,  so  miserable  did  he  look. 

The  General  had  at  last  finished  his  correspon- 
dence, and  gave  his  whole  attention  to  young 
H6tfalusy. 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS.  t87 

•Now  listen  patiently  to  all  that  I  am  going  to 
say.  Take  these  letters,  choose  the  best  horse  from 
my  stables,  and  hasten  to  the  leaders  of  the  military 
cordons  one  after  the  other.  Each  one  of  them 
will  place  at  the  disposal  of  the  captain  accompany- 
ing you  one  half  of  his  effective  strength.  As  soon 
as  you  have  gathered  together  half  a  battalion, 
hasten  with  them  to  Hetfalu,  as  to  the  rest  that  will 
be  provided  for  by  written  instructions.  Your  own 
heart  will  tell  you  what  you  ought  to  do.  You 
are  going  to  rescue  and  defend  your  family.  There 
the  hand  of  God  will  be  over  you.  If  it  please 
Him  to  carry  your  sentence  into  execution  His  will 
be  done,  if  you  return  alive  the  past  shall  be  for- 
gottea" 

The  youth  did  not  know  what  to  answer,  his  voice 
died  away  in  his  throat  All  he  could  do  was  to 
sink  down  in  silence  by  the  GeneraFs  side,  press  his 
hand  to  his  lips,  and  shed  tearsw 

"  Get  up,  get  up,  and  be  off!  You  have  not  to 
thank  me  for  this.  You  must  thank  God  and  this 
worthy  gentiejnan  who  has  dared  so  much  for  your 
sake." 

Only  then  did  the  youth  cast  a  glance  upon 
Kamienszkaj  and  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  dimly 
saw,  conjured  up  before  him,  through  the  misty  veil 
of  his  tears,  the  vision  of  a  form  from  other  days. 

The  Polish  lady  hastened  up  to  him,  pressed  his 
hand,  and  whispered  in  his  ear : 

"  Not  a  word  now  1  We  shall  have  plenty  of  time 
presentiy,** 


988  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

"Then  you  do  know  each  other?  "  said  Vertessy. 
•*  What  could  the  youth  be  dreaming  of  to  deny  his 
friend  a  Httle  while  ago?  " 

And  with  that  he  gave  the  heroine's  hand  a 
vigorous  grip,  for  he  had  every  reason  to  still  call 
her  a  man. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  I  fancy  I  am  not  making  you  a 
bad  offer  if  I  ask  you  to  come  and  have  a  hast}^ 
breakfast  with  me  and  your  young  friend,  and  then 
choose  one  of  my  horses  and  buckle  on  one  of  my 
swords.  You  are  not  the  man  I  take  you  for  if  you 
do  not  feel  inclined  to  follow  your  comrade  and 
share  his  danger." 

Hetfalusy,  with  an  expression  of  alarm,  would 
have  interrupted  him ;  but  the  girl  thrust  him  aside, 
and  her  flashing  eyes  seemed  to  impose  silence  upon 
him. 

"  Thank  you,  General,"  she  manfully  replied.  "  I 
anticipated  that  offer,  and  I  accept  it  As  for  our 
breakfast  we  can  have  that  in  our  saddles.  We 
have  no  time  to  stay." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Vertessy,  squeezing  the  soft 
downy  hand  whose  steel-like  muscles  did  not  betray 
the  woman,  "  you  must  hasten.  This  mad  rebellion 
must  be  overthrown  as  rapidly  as  it  has  arisen. 
Should  the  movement  extend  to  other  parts  of  the 
county  you  will  not  fend  me  unprepared" 

Meanwhile  the  steeds  were  led  out  below  the 
gate.  The  attendant  captain  rushed  out,  half 
dressed,  bringing  a  sword  with  him  for  Kamienszka, 
which  she  hastily  buckled  on  like  a  man. 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS.  tSg 

The  General  escorted  them  down  to  the  horses, 
and  the  three  cavaliers  swung  themselves  into  their 
saddles.  Vertessy  pressed  once  more  the  heroine's 
hand,  and  said  to  her  with  soldierly  frankness : 

"Mr.  Kamienszki,  I  have  a  great  regard  for 
you!" 

"  Not  Kamienszki  but  Kamienszka !  "  murmtired 
the  lady  softly,  and  with  that  she  spurred  her  horse 
and  galloped  after  her  comrades. 

And  now  for  the  first  time  a  light  dawned  in 
V6rtessy's  mind,  and  he  understood  it  all. 

"  A  marvellous  woman !  "  he  muttered,  gazing 
after  her  till  the  distance  hid  her  from  his  eyes. 

The  streets  were  quite  quiet,  nobody  was  about, 
the  General's  own  heart  was  afflicted  by  the  stillness. 
A  beneficent  calm,  so  often  the  reaction  from  ex- 
treme excitement,  came  over  him. 

And  now  he  had  time  to  hasten  back  to  the 
peaceful  house  opposite. 

His  heart  beat  so  violently  with  joyful  anticipa- 
tion, the  pulses  of  his  hands  and  temples  throbbed 
so  tumultuously  as  he  strode  through  the  quiet 
rooms. 

In  the  ante-chamber  he  encountered  the  doctor, 
who  advanced  towards  him  with  a  smile  and 
stretched  out  his  hand. 

"  You  have  a  joyful  house  now,"  said  he. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  exclaimed  Vertessy, 
stammering  with  delight ;  he  knew  very  well,  all  the 
time,  what  the  doctor  meant 

*A  wee,  wee  cherub  has  arrived,"  whi^)ered  the 

T 


spo  THE   DAY   OF   WRATH. 

doctor — **  and  *tis  a  boy  cherub  too,"  be  added  with 
a  still  broader  smile. 

The  next  moment  Vertessy  was  kneeling  down 
before  his  wife,  and  pressing  her  hands  hundreds 
and  hundreds  of  times  to  his  burning  lips. 

And  the  wife,  with  a  sweet  and  blissful  smile, 
looked  down  upon  her  husband  like  one  of  those 
whom  the  prayers  of  their  beloved  have  called  back 
from  the  world  beyond  the  grave. 

"With  God  there  is  mercy!"  was  all  that  she 
could  say. 


CHAPTER  XVL 

•nS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK. 

At  the  Castle  of  Hetfalu  everyone  was  quietly 
sleeping.  None  had  any  thought  of  that  black 
spectre  which  is  the  enemy  of  all  living  creatures, 
which  constrains  the  huge  watch-dog  to  dig  up. 
graves  with  his  hind  feet,  which  bids  the  night  owl. 
utter  her  dismal  notes  on  the  housetop  alongside 
of  the  creaking  weather-cock,  which  sends  into  the 
vestibules  and  corridors  its  living  visiting-cards  in 
the  shape  of  those  large,  black,  night-moths  with 
pale  skull-like  effigies  painted  on  their  backs  as 
upon  tombs,  beneath  whose  feet  the  furniture  creaks 
and  crackles,  which  makes  that  tiny  invisible  beetle 
hidden  between  the  boards  of  the  beds  begin  tick- 
tick-ticking  like  a  fairy  watch,  eleven  times  in 
succession,  by  way  of  showing  that  the  witching 
hour  of  night  is  close  at  hand 

Oh !  there  is  such  a  great  imanimity  among  these 
dumb  creatures  of  the  night  and  darkness. 

The  wind  blew  gloomy-looking  clouds  before  it 
across  the  sky,  clouds  which  hastened  away  from 
that  district^  which  jostled  one  another  as  th^ 


99a  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

scudded  along,  some  high,  some  low,  and  kept  on 
changing  their  shapes  as  if  they  feared  lest  some- 
thing might  catch  them  there.  Some  of  them  had 
blood-red  linings  from  the  flames  of  distant  con- 
flagrations, and  these  flew  rapidly  along,  trying  to 
force  their  way  through  in  advance  of  the  rest ;  but 
these  others  sped  along  still  faster,  lest  they,  too, 
should  be  enkindled. 

And  in  the  darkness  disorderly  masses  of  men 
might  have  been  dimly  seen  assembling  in  the  roads 
and  stealthily  proceeding  towards  the  castle.  In 
the  tap-room  of  the  csdrda  evil  counsellors  are  dis- 
cussing the  destruction  of  all  the  dwellers  in  the 
castle. 

Three  separate  opinions  are  fighting  for  the 
supremacy.  Numa  Pompilius  is  in  favour  of  an 
open,  heroic  attack,  as  became  the  epigoni  of  the 
valiant  Sarmatians;  with  battering-rams,  ballistas, 
and  other  classical  instruments  of  weirfare,  he  would 
have  fought  breast  to  breast,  eye  to  eye  with  the 
foe. 

Ivan,  on  the  other  hand,  is  more  practical.  He 
knows  his  own  people  better,  and  anticipates  much 
greater  success  from  an  insidious  surprise  in  which 
the  warriors  shall  stealthily  crawl  over  walls  and' 
through  windows  upon  the  unguarded  and  imsus- 
pecting  garrison,  and  massacre  them  in  their 
dreams. 

The  wife  of  the  headsman  sits  on  the  table 
opposite  the  two  commanders-in-chief  with  a  mock- 
ing smile  upon  her  lips,  and  her  huge  muscular  arms 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    293 

crossed  over  her  bosom.  From  time  to  time  she 
utters  a  scornful  laugh  and  grunts  disapprovingly. 

"  Do  what  you  like,"  she  said  at  last,  "  neither  of 
you  knows  anything  about  it  The  buffalo-catcher 
would  proceed  cautiously  and  the  cripple  would  run 
like  a  '  bull '  at  the  gate." 

"  And  what  would  you  do,  I  should  like  to  know," 
snarled  Ivan. 

"  I  know  something,  and  I  know  how  to  keep  it 
to  myself.  When  you  two  have  made  a  mess  of  it, 
then  I  shall  come  forward." 

The  commanders  began  to  be  jealous  of  her 
influence.  The  first  success  always  wins  the  heart  of 
the  mob,  they  must  make  sure  of  that  anyhow." 

"  Call  in  the  Leather-bell,"  cried  Ivan  to  the  door- 
keepers. 

The  old  fellow  was  shoved  in. 

"The  castle  watch-dogs  know  you,  don't  they?** 
he  was  asked. 

"Know  me?  of  course  they  do,"  replied  the 
worthy  man.  "Why,  I  brought  up  Tisza  and 
Farkas  myself.  1  give  them  bread  every  day. 
Why,  they  sniff  my  pockets  even  now  whenever  I 
go  along  there." 

"They  know  you  still  better,  you  knacker  you, 
ril  be  bound,"  said  Dame  Zudar  to  Ivan  derisively. 

Ivan  caught  up  a  knife  from  the  table  and  would 
have  stuck  the  woman  with  it  had  not  Thomas 
Bodza  stayed  his  hand.  He  did  not  like  these 
squabbles  at  all. 

"  This  is  not  the  time  for  wrangling,"  said  he. 


S94  THE    DAY   OF   WRATH. 

Only  very  reluctantly  did  Ivan  allow  himself  to 
be  pacified  and  induced  to  continue  the  conversa- 
tioiL 

"Here  in  this  handkerchief  are  some  pieces  of 
meat,  do  you  think  you  can  get  the  dogs  to  take 
them  with  soft  words?  " 

"Why  not?  I  have  only  to  call  them  by  name, 
and  they  will  come  to  the  doors  of  their  kennels 
and  eat  it  out  of  my  very  hands." 

"  Then  look  sharp  and  set  about  it'* 

The  Leather-bell  was  such  a  good  fellow  that  he 
was  never  able  to  resist  the  slightest  command.  He 
accepted  the  commission,  although  he  knew  very 
well  that  the  dogs  would  be  poisoned  He  consoled 
himself  with  the  reflection,  however,  that  nobody 
had  told  him  so  beforehand 

"But  look  here,  gentlemen,  you  don't  want  to 
do  his  honour,  the  squire,  any  harm?"  he  inquired 
of  Ivcin,  with  a  foolishly  smiling  face. 

"No,  old'un,  na" 

"  Nor  the  young  squire  either?  " 

"  No,  nor  him  either,  not  for  all  the  world"  . 

"Nor  the  hey  duke?  He  is  my  godson,  yon 
know." 

"  No,  nor  him  either,  old  'un,  but  do  look  sharp." 

"You  only  want  to  find  out  whether  there  is 
poison  in  the  castle  or  not,  don't  you?  " 

"Yes,  yes.  Devil  take  the  fellow!  Be  off, 
or  I'll  knock  some  of  your  teeth  down  your 
throat." 

And  the  poor  Leather-bell  scuttled  ofL 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    295 

"  And  now  bring  Mekipiros  hither !  " 

They  dragged  the  poor  half-idiotic  creature  into 
the  room.  His  thick,  bristly  hair  hung  right  over 
his  eyes.  He  was  grinning  and  evidently  in  a  good 
humour.  But  he  could  speak  no  longer,  of  course, 
^ince  he  had  lost  his  tongue;  whatever  they  said 
to  him  he  could  only  reply :  "  Hamamama !  " 

This  with  him  was  the  expression  of  happiness 
and  contentment,  both  question  and  answer. 

'*  Mekipiros !  come  hither  and  drink,"  cried  Ivan, 
holding  to  his  mouth  a  straw-covered  pitcher  full 
of  spirit,  which  he  to  whom  it  was  offered  did  not 
remove  from  his  lips  till  it  was  quite  empty.  Then 
he  returned  it  to  Ivan  with  a  joyful  "  Hamamama !  " 

"Look  now,  blockhead!  You  can  climb  up  a 
rope  anywhere,  can't  you?  " 

"  Hamamamama ! " 

" All  right,  Tm  not  deaf!  You  can  scale  the  roof 
of  a  house  by  means  of  a  rope  then?  " 

The  hideous  monster  rubbed  his  hands  with  joy 
at  the  proposal 

"And  then  you  will  drag  me  up  after  you  by 
means  of  the  same  rope,  do  you  imderstand?  " 

The  dwarfish  abortion  rushed  with  a  howl  of  joy 
at  Ivan,  caught  the  fellow  round  the  knee,  raised 
him  high  in  the  air,  and  leapt  up  and  down  with 
him,  by  way  of  showii^  that  he  was  as  light  as  a 
bag  of  feathers,  till  Ivan,  by  dint  of  shouting  and 
pummeUing,  contrived  to  free  himself  from  the 
creature's  grasp. 

**  The  fellow  has  the  strength  of  an  ox,"  said  ho 


2^6  THE   DAY    OF   WRATH. 

to  Thomas  Bodza,  seizing  the  thick-set  creature  by 
the  hair,  and  lugging  him  hither  and  thither, 
which  appeared  to  infinitely  delight  the  speechless 
monster.  Whenever  he  succeeded  in  getting  hold 
of  one  of  Ivan's  hands  he  covered  it  with  kisses, 
whereupon  the  other,  with  an  air  of  disgust,  kept 
rubbing  them  on  the  tails  of  his  coat,  as  if  he  could 
not  wipe  them  sufficiently. 

"He  will  do  very  well  as  food  for  their  gfuns," 
whispered  Ivan.  "  If  the  people  in  the  castle  hear 
a  noise,  and  guess  our  subterfuge,  they  will  shoot 
Mekipiros,  for  we  will  send  him  on  in  front  Why, 
even  with  a  couple  of  bullets  in  his  body  the  fellow 
will  be  able  to  scramble  up  the  walL  He's  like  a' 
toad." 

Meanwhile  the  Leather -bell  returned  and 
announced  that  the  dogs  had  gobbled  up  all  the 
meat  thrown  to  thenL 

"  Oh,  they  made  no  bones  about  it,"  cried  he. 

"Then  we  can  go,"  said  Ivan,  thrusting  a  rusty 
military  pistol  into  his  breast-pocket 

Dame  Zudar  hastened  towards  her  matted 
waggon  and  leaped  upon  the  box-seat  For  a 
moment  a  long,  sharp  knife  flashed  betwixt  her 
hands,  and  she  peered  at  it  closely  to  make  sure  that 
its  edge  was  all  rigfht,  immediately  afterwards  it 
vanished  again  nobody  knew  whither.  Then  she 
laid  hold  of  her  whip  and  lashed  up  the  horses. 

The  road  they  followed  passed  by  the  hut  of  the 
Death-Bird.  The  old  witch  was  huddled  up  in  her 
doorway,  and  began  counting  those  who  passed. 


'TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    «^ 

marking  them  off  one  by  one,  with  her  crutch: 
*'  One,  two,  three — One,  two,  three." 

She  never  went  beyond  three,  therefore  every 
third  was  a  marked  man. 

When  her  daughter  passed  by  with  the  rector 
and  Ivan  she  laughed  aloud. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  A  splendid  company  truly!  A 
schoolmaster,  a  headsman's  apprentice,  and  a  nice 
young  bride!  Whither  are  you  going  such  a  dark 
night?  A  splendidly  dark  night!  Just  the  night 
for  thieves  and  murderers ;  just  the  night  for  those 
intent  on  rapine  and  burning!  On  you  go!  On 
you  go!  Worry  the  great  gentry,  root  out  your 
landlords,  and  after  that  fall  yourselves  into  the 
hands  of  the  headsman !  The  less  people  there  are 
in  the  world  the  nicer  it  will  be." 

None  of  the  rioters  durst  molest  her  though  she 
stood  right  in  their  way,  and  spoke  so  that  everyone 
could  hear  her.  They  all  took  care  to  give  her  a 
wide  berth. 

Thomas  Bodza  distributed  his  people  along  the 
road,  and  occupied  every  exit  from  the  castle.  One 
detachment  he  hid  behind  a  haystack,  with  another 
he  seized  the  beehives,  and  with  a  third  the 
distillery.  The  servants  who  lived  outside  he  over- 
came after  a  short  resistance,  and  then  boimd  them 
tightly  and  locked  them  up. 

Inside  the  casde  nobody  was  yet  aware  of  what 
was  going  on  outside  Not  a  single  servcint  slept 
there.  The  young  squire,  in  his  terror  of  the 
epidemic,  would  not  suffer  one  of  them  to  sleep  in 


fpS  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

the  castle,  the  only  people  inside  there  besides  him- 
self were  old  Hetfalusy  and  the  doctor. 

Ivan  then  chose  out  six  of  the  bravest  of  his 
followers,  amongst  them  the  watchman  in  whose 
sylvan  hut  they  had  held  their  secret  meetings, 
Hamza,  the  sexton,  and  Mekipiros,  whose  mouth 
they  had  to  gag,  to  prevent  him  from  uttering  his 
eternal  "  Hamamama ! " 

Poor  Mekipiros !  A  little  while  ago  he  was  able 
to  pray,  now  he  could  not  utter  an  intelligible 
word! 

It  was  not  difficult  to  get  into  the  courtyard.  The 
Leather-bell  opened  the  gate  for  them.  Inside  the 
dogs  were  lying  near  the  well  stiff  and  stark,  noth-i 
ii^  had  betrayed  the  venture. 

And  now  Ivan  produced  a  long  strong  rope,  and 
tied  on  to  it  a  lot  of  pack-thread,  at  the  end  of  which 
a  heavy  piece  of  lead  was  fastened.  Round  the  roof 
of  the  castle  ran  a  metal  gutter,  which  terminated 
at  the  comers  m  old-fashioned  dolphins.  On  to  one 
<rf  sudi  dolphins  Ivan  threw  the  pack-thread  noose, 
and  seizing  hold  of  the  re-descending  lead  plummet, 
hoisted  up  the  rope  likewise  It  was  really  a  capital 
idea.  Mekipiros  was  to  clamber  up  the  rope,  he 
knew  the  trick  of  it  He  was  to  be  the  anima  vilis 
by  means  of  whom  they  were  to  find  out  whether 
the  folks  in  the  castle  were  asleep  or  not 

When  he  got  to  the  top  he  was  to  pull  up  Ivan 
after  him,  and  then  the  united  strength  of  the 
pair  of  them  would  do  the  same  by  the  others. 
They  would  then  creep  into  the  castle  through  the 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK,    299 

attics  and  open  the  doors,  which  were  locked  on  the 
inside,  to  admit  their  comrades. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  circumspectly  con- 
ceived. 

When  the  rope  was  firmly  fastened  to  the  top  of 
the  gutter  Ivan  hurried  up  Mekipiros  and  shoved 
the  free  end  of  the  rope  into  his  hand. 

The  little  monster  did  not  trust  himself  to  shout* 
but  expressed  his  satisfaction  in  a  lowly  murmured 
"  Hamamamama ! " 

The  next  moment  he  was  clambering  up  the  rope 
like  a  strange  sort  of  huge  spider,  climbing  rapidly 
higher  and  higher  with  agile  hands  and  feet, 
.occasionally  he  evei^  helped  himself  along  with  his 
teeth.  In  a  few  moments  he  was  sitting  on  the 
back  of  the  copper  dolphin,  delighted  to  have  found 
a  steed  in  a  monster  similar  to  himself,  and  from 
thence  he  shouted :  "  Hu,  hu,  hu ! "  like  an  owL 

"  Will  you  shut  up ! "  called  Ivan,  in  a  voice  of 
suppressed  fury.  **  The  beast  will  betray  us  1  Haul 
up,  can't  you?" 

Ivan  clutched  hold  of  tbe  rope  with  both  hands. 

Mekipiros  with  vigorous  tugs  hoisted  him  up- 
wards, hauling  up  the  rope  with  his  short  cirms  as 
easily  as  if  there  were  no  weight  attached  to  it 

"  How  I  wish  he  would  let  him  fall,"  murmured 
Dame  Zuddr  to  herself. 

Thomas  Bodza  had  much  the  same  sort  of  wisU' 
in  his  own  heart  Each  of  them  had  his  or  hec* 
particular  reasons  for  wishing  Ivan's  plan  to  fail 

But  Mekipiros  did  not  let  him  drop.    He  hoisted 


300  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

him  up  right  on  to  the  roof  and  helped  him  to  climb 
up  on  to  the  metal  gutter. 

Ivan  scarce  felt  his  feet  once  more,  however, 
when,  instead  of  expressing  his  gratitude,  he  ex- 
pended his  pent-up  rage  on  his  companion. 

"You  mad  bullock,  you,  why  did  you  roar  out 
just  now,  eh?"  he  whispered  in  the  ear  of  Meki- 
piros,  and  he  viciously  tugged  at  the  stunted 
monster's  bristly  hair  with  one  hand,  at  the  same 
time  holding  his  other  hand  before  his  mouth  to 
prevent  him  from  screaming  out. 

At  that  same  instant  Mekipiros  turned  upon  Ivan 
with  flashing  eyes,  seized  him  round  the  thighs  and 
holding  him  fast  embraced,  hauled  him  along  the 
roof.  For  a  second  the  pair  of  them  tottered  on 
the  very  edge  of  the  gutter,  but  then  Ivan  clutched 
the  metal  cornice  and  held  on  to  it  convulsively 
with  both  hands. 

"  Hamama,  hamama,  hamama ! "  howled  the 
enraged  monster.  Like  a  heavy  load  of  sin,  he 
hung  on  to  the  legs  of  his  prey,  squeezing  his  knees 
together  in  an  iron  embrace,  worrying  his  enemy's 
calves  with  his  teeth,  kicking  and  cuflang  him,  and 
striving  to  hurl  him  into  the  abyss  below. 

Ivan  was  fairly  mad  with  terror. 

"  Help !  "  he  roared,  in  a  voice  capable  of  arousing 
the  Seven  Sleepers,  "  help !     He  is  killing  me !  " 

"  I  knew  what  would  be  the  end  of  it ! "  cried 
Dame  Zudar,  gnashing  her  teeth.  "  The  poltroon  is 
betraying  us  himself.  Let  him  perish  if  he  does  not 
know  how  to  live." 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    301 

"Scoundrel!"  Bodza  shouted  to  him.  "What! 
cannot  you  die  speechless  like  a  Julius  Caesar?  And 
when  the  common  cause  demands  that  you  should 
keep  silence  too !     Fie  upon  you,  I  say !  " 

Ivan,  in  his  desperation,  writhed  over  the  gult 
beneath  him,  and  forgetting  everything  but  the 
horrible  death  awaiting  him,  bellowed  hoarsely  to 
those  standing  below : 

"  Help,  for  the  love  of  Christ  Men,  I  say !  do 
not  let  me  perish!  I  am  falling!  I  am  dying. 
Woe  is  me!  Spread  straw  imderneath,  can't  you? 
Hold  a  carpet  below  me !  Mercy,  mercy !  Let  me 
go,  Mekipiros!  I  beseech  you,  for  God's  sake,  let 
me  go ! " 

But  it  was  no  part  of  Mekipiros'  plan  to  plunge 
down  to  the  ground  all  by  himself.  For  the  last 
hour  or  so  he  had  been  joyfully  awaiting  this  sweet 
moment,  for  this  he  had  laughed,  for  this  he  had 
frisked  about  so  uproariously.  He  was  unable  to 
conceal  his  delight  If  only  he  could  be  alone  with 
his  tormentor  at  that  giddy  height,  suddenly  seize 
him,  and  hurl  him  down  with  himself  from  the  roof, 
fly  for  a  few  seconds  through  the  air,  and  then  lie 
stretched  upon  the  earth  in  a  smashed  and  broken 
mass,  so  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  distinguish 
the  one  from  the  other — ^ah!  then  how  happy  he 
would  be ! 

And — better  than  that  even — ^his  victim  had 
clutched  hold  of  something  in  the  very  act  of  falling, 
and  so  the  delicious  moment  was  indefinitely  pro- 
longed!    He  heard  how  his  prey  roared  for  help, 


302  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

saw  how  he  writhed  convulsively  in  the  desperate 
hope  of  saving  himself,  how  half  out  of  his  mind 
he  even  begged  him,  Mekipiros!  for  life:  "Meki- 
piros,  dear  good  Mekipiros,  let  me  go,  and  plunge' 
down  alone ! " 

"  Hamamama !  hamamama !  "  gurgled  the  mons- 
ter with  a  grim  cruel  voice,  and  he  kicked  the  wall 
with  his  feet  to  make  Ivan  let  go  the  quicker,  and 
buried  his  scanty  teeth  in  the  fleshy  legs  of  his 
victim,  and  worried  him  like  a  dog. 

"Mercy,  mercy!  Help!  I  can  hold  out  na 
longer ! "  gasped  Ivan,  his  sinews  beginning  to 
stretch  beneath  the  pressure  of  the  double  load. 
No  help  was  possible.  Those  standing  below  cursed 
him  for  rousing  the  castle  with  his  shouts.  The 
narrow  edge  of  the  gutter  was  gradually  slipping, 
through  his  nerveless  fingers.  And  now  one  hand 
relaxed  its  hold,  and  only  by  a  last  convulsive  effort 
did  he  manage  to  hold  on  for  a  few  seconds  by  the 
other. 

"  Hamamama !  "  screeched  the  monster,  and  then 
a  yell,  as  of  the  lost,  resounded  from  height  to  depth, 
and  a  huge  round,  black,  writhing,  coil  came  bound- 
ing rapidly  to  the  ground,  and  there,  the  next 
instant,  lay  a  mangled  mass  of  flesh,  in  which  per- 
ihaps  at  one  time  two  souls  had  dwelt. 

"And  now  let  us  see  what  the  next  can  do," 
growled  Dame  Zuddr,  leaning  nonchalantly  back  in 
her  waggon,  and  crossing  her  arms  over  her  breast 
like  an  impatient  singer  at  a  concert  who  waits  for 
\j^  turn  in  the  programme  to  come  while  his 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    303 

colleagues  are  boring  the  public  to  death  with  their 
dismal  performances. 

At  Ivan's  first  howl  two  lights  had  become  visible 
in  the  two  comer  chambers  of  the  castle,  and 
presently  both  of  these  lights  were  observed  hasten- 
ing to  the  central  hall  only,  a  few  moments  later,  to 
be  extinguished.  Then  the  iron  shutters  were 
banged  down  with  a  crash,  only  one  square  piece  in 
the  middle  still  remained  raised. 

The  besieged  were  on  their  guard 

Now,  Numa  Pompilius,  you  have  a  fine  field 
before  you  for  the  race  of  glory.  Advance!  put 
your  ladders  to  the  walls,  hurl  your  beams  against 
the  foe,  sling  your  stones  against  the  roof,  begin 
the  struggle,  and  inspire  the  combatants  with  martial 
fury!  Let  shouts  and  yells  and  curses  supply 
the  place  of  thundering  artillery!  The  enemy  i3 
aroused  and  expectant ! 

"  Forward,  ye  heroes !  The  hour  of  the  red  dawn 
of  our  day  of  triumph  is  at  hand.  Victory  to  the 
valiant!" 

The  excited  mob  heard  not  a  word  of  this 
classical  appeal,  its  ears  were  too  full  of  its  own 
bowlings,  as  it  pressed  into  the  courtyard 

Then  from  that  window  square,  which  had 
remained  uncovered  by  the  shutter,  a  shot 
resounded,  at  whose  sharp  report  the  hideous  hub- 
bub suddenly  grew  dumb,  and  during  the  lull  a 
strong  manly  voice  addressed  the  rioters : 

"That  was  only  a  blank  shot  If  you  do  not 
instantly  leave  the  courtyard  we  will  fire  amoi^  you 
with  bullets" 


304  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

"Let  us  depart  hence,  my  noble  patriots,  let  xm 
depart !  "  stammered  the  Leather-bell.  "  It  is  Squire 
Sz6phalmi  who  commands  it  It  is  not  well  to  play- 
games with  him.  He  has  a  lot  of  six-barrelled  fire- 
arms inside  with  three  bullets  in  each  barrel  A 
mischief  may  befall  some  of  us  else.  We  have 
wives  and  children  at  home.  Let  us  go  home,  my 
dear  fellow  patriots.  Early  to-morrow  morning  we 
will  send  a  deputation." 

The  greater  part  of  the  mob  shared  this  good 
opinion,  and  began  to  show  their  respect  for  fire^ 
arms  by  clearing  out  of  the  courtyard. 

But  Numa  Pompilius,  full  of  the  fury  of  despair, 
barred  the  way  against  his  retreating  host 

"Miserable,  cowardly  deserters!  What!  a  single 
blank  shot  is  sufficient  to  turn  you  back!  Holus- 
bolus,  '  sicut  examen  apum,'  ye  decamp  at  the  word 
of  a  single  foe!  Fie,  fie  upon  you,  ye  dregs,  ye 
sweepii^  of  humanity !  " 

The  bellicose  commcLnder  spat  in  his  disgust  at 
the  fugitives  again,  and  again,  and  overwhelmed 
them  with  all  sorts  of  choice  epithets.  Finally  he 
snatched  up  an  axe,  and  declared  that  if  nobody  else 
stirred  he  would  go  and  batter  down  the  door  of  the 
castle  single-handed 

But  the  Leather-bell  threw  his  arms  round  the 
body  of  the  enthusiastic  hero  lest  he  should  hazard 
his  life  in  so  perilous  an  enterprise.  Nay,  he  would 
not  even  let  him  enter  the  courtyard,  but  went  so 
far  as  to  seize  the  axe  he  held  in  his  hand  regardless 
of  the  kicks  and  cuffs  he  received  during  the  struggle 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    305 

Dame  Zudir  laughed  scornfully  at  this  tragi- 
comical scene. 

"  Why  don't  some  other  of  you  fellows  hold  him 
back  too  ?  "  she  cried.  "  He  likes  nothing  better  than 
not  to  be  let  go.  Don't  you  see  what  a  business  he 
makes  of  it  to  rid  himself  of  that  feeble  old  man, 
whom  he  could  throw  to  the  ground  with  half  a 
hand  if  he  had  a  mind  to.  Get  out  of  my  way,  will 
you?  Men  are  out  of  place  in  a  joke  of  this  sort 
My  mother  was  a  witch  and  I'm  one  also.  Do  you 
know  that  I  can  open  every  door  before  you  with  a 
single  word  All  you  have  got  to  do  is  to  sharpen 
your  knives." 

And  with  that  she  opened  the  wicker  covering  of 
her  waggon,  which  hitherto  had  been  kept  tightly 
closed,  and  as  easily,  as  if  she  only  held  a  down 
cushion  in  her  hand,  she  hauled  forth  little  Elise. 

The  child's  hands  were  tied  in  front  of  her,  and 
her  head  was  completely  enveloped  in  a  thick 
woollen  wrapper  so  that  she  could  neither  see  nor 
cry  out 

Dajne  Zuddr  removed  the  wrapper  from  the  Kttle 
girl's  head,  and  ordered  her  to  stand  upright 

Then  she  produced  a  half  burnt  wax  taper,  the 
relic  of  some  past  funeral,  lit  it,  and  placed  it 
between  the  child's  fettered  fingers. 

"  The  woman  is  not  quite  light,"  growled  shaggy- 
headed  Hanak.  "  She  lights  a  candle  so  that  they 
may  be  better  able  to  fire  among  us." 

"  Have  no  fear,  shaggy  pate.  They  will  not  fire 
at  you.    Go  and  huddle  bdiind  the  doorpost  if  you 

U 


$o6  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

like.  1  mean  to  go  alone  into  the  courtyard,  and 
will  draw  the  snake  out  of  its  hole  with  my  bare 
hand" 

The  besiegers  did  not  need  much  persuasion  to 
hide  themselves.  When  Dame  Zudar  passed 
through  fhe  gate  with  the  child,  everyone,  not 
exceptii^  Thomas  Bodza,  hastened  to  make  himself 
scarce. 

The  child  she  sent  on  in  front  with  the  lighted 
taper  sticking  between  its  fettered  fingers.  She  fol- 
lowed close  behind.     She  had  no  fear  of  bullets  now. 

When  they  came  in  front  of  the  open  square  in 
the  shutter,  she  made  the  child  stop,  and  bade  it 
kneel  down. 

Then  with  a  loud  resounding  voice  she  shouted 
up  at  the  windows : 

"Old  Hetfcdusy,  are  you  there?  Yoimg  Sze- 
phalmi,  are  you  there?  " 

There  was  no  answer. 

"  It  is  of  no  use  denying  yourselves.  I  am  here 
to  carry  on  my  process  against  you.  It  is  the  old, 
old  suit  in  which  my  father  lost  his  life  and  my 
mother  her  reasoa  I  have  also  brought  along  with 
me  a  tribunal  which  cannot  be  corrupted.  I  am  now 
the  stronger  party." 

"  Take  yourself  off ! "  a  hoarse,  broken  voice 
suddenly  cried  from  the  window;  it  very  much 
resembled  old  Hetfalusy's. 

"  Oh,  I'm  to  take  myself  off,  eh !  "  cried  the  virago 
defiantly.  "Am  I  not  standing  then  on  my  own 
ground?    Is ^  not  this  comer  of  the  house  whose 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    307 

windows  I  am  now  rattling,  built  on  the  plot 
of  ground  belonging  to  my  forefathers?  Is  not 
this  ground  my  own?  Are  not  these  very  stones, 
these  very  blades  of  grass  on  which  I  now  trample, 
mine,  mine,  mine  ?  " 

**It  may  very  easily  be  yours  for  ever,  you 
wretched  creature,"  said  another  voice,  the  voice  of 
the  younger  squire.  "  If  you  do  not  go  away,  yoa 
shall  die  on  the  very  spot" 

The  barrel  of  a  gun  flashed  between  the  shutters, 
and  the  headsman's  wife  could  see  that  it  was 
pointed  straight  at  her  heart. 

Quickly  she  pulled  the  littlegirl  towards  her. 

"  Aim  away,  Szephalmi !  "  she  cried  "  I  have 
even  taken  the  trouble  to  bring  a  light  that  you  may 
see  to  aim  straight" 

And  with  that  she  snatched  the  candle  from 
between  the  child's  fingers,  and  held  it  so  that  it 
lit  up  her  feice. 

"Look  now!  A  pretty  child,  ain't  she?  Those 
blue  cyeSy  those  soft  lipPs  resemble  someone  you 
loved  very  much  at  one  time,  don't  they?  It  would 
be  a  shame,  wouldn't  it,  to  make  this  tender,  slender 
shape  a  target  for  bullets,  wouldn't  it?  " 

The  barrel  of  the  gun  sank  slowly  down. 

"How  do  you  suppose  now,  Szephalmi,"  con- 
tinued the  virago,  her  face  radiant  with  infernal 
malice,  "  how  do  you  suppose  now  that  the  heads- 
man's wife  managed  to  get  hold  of  this  gentle 
cherub,  who  is  as  much  like  her  as  an  ^nge\  is  to  a 
devU?'^ 


3o8  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

"  Woman ! "  hissed  someone  from  within,  though 
whether  it  was  the  old  man  or  the  young  it  was 
impossible  to  say. 

Dame  Zudar  drew  nearer,  she  now  went  right  up 
to  the  window. 

"  You  would  like  me  to  speak  in  a  lower  key,  no 
doubt?  Well,  I  may  do  that  You  see  how  close 
I  am  standing  to  you,  you  could  touch  my  body 
with  the  barrel  of  your  musket  But  you  wor^t 
touch  me,  I  know,  for  now  it  is  I  who  am  the 
destroyer." 

And  with  that  she  laid  her  large,  broad,  muscular 
palm  on  the  Httle  girl's  tender  shoulder. 

"This  child  is  now  eight  years  old.  When  she 
was  bom  her  father  cursed  her,  her  mother  kicked 
her  out,  and  her  nurse  confided  her  to  a  she-wolf 
that  she  might  either  kill  it  or  bring  it  up  along 
with  her  own  whelps — which  is  much  about  the 
same  thing.  It  is  the  foolish  old  story,  the  old  grey 
wolf  carried  off  the  brat  and  brought  it  up ;  the  old 
headsman  nourished  the  innocent  little  girl,  and 
defended  her  against  all  the  wild  beasts  of  the 
forest     Do  I  make  the  fable  quite  clear  to  you?  " 

A  stifled  moan  was  the  sole  reply. 

"And  then  Heaven's  lightning  descended  upon 
your  house,  misfortune  was  a  constant  visitor  upon 
you,  you  soon  had  a  pair  of  corpses  under  your 
roof,  and  there  was  no  end  to  your  affliction.  Now 
I  should  say  that  that  looked  very  much  like  a 
corse  upon  you. 

"Yes,  a  curse  pursued  your  family.    When  you 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    309 

had  securely  fastened  the  door  behind  you,  you  used 
to  weep  and  wail  like  any  beggar;  yes,  and  no 
beggar  at  your  door  would  have  thanked  you  for 
the  chance  of  exchanging  his  lot  with  yours." 

To  this  there  was  no  reply  from  behind  the  window. 

The  defiant  features  of  the  virago  were  illumina- 
ted by  the  candle  which  the  child  now  held  again 
in  her  hand.  She  seemed  to  cast  a  dark  shadow 
upon  the  very  night  around  her — the  darkest  of 
dark  shadows. 

And  now  she  went  right  up  to  the  window  s6  that 
she  could  actually  whisper  through  it. 

"  Come,  throw  down  your  weapons,  ye  great  and 
haughty  gentlemen,  for  they  are  no  longer  a  defence 
to  you.  Something  very  evil  is  going  to  happen 
to-night,  for  I  have  not  come  to  you  for  nothing,  I 
can  tell  you." 

And  with  that  she  drew  from  beneath  the  kerchief 
covering  her  breast  the  knife  sharpened  to  a  keen 
point,  whose  edge  she  had  tested  so  carefully  a  short 
time  before. 

"  Do  you  see  my  key?  "  cried  she.  "  This  is  the 
key  to  your  hearts,  this  is  the  key  to  the  doors  of 
your  palaces.  This  knife  will  pare  down  your  pride 
and  humble  you  to  the  dust  beneath  my  feet  You 
could  shoot  me  dead  as  I  stand  here  I  know,  though 
that  would  be  no  very  great  master-stroke.  But  the 
same  instant  in  which  I  fell,  my  mother,  the  old 
witch,  would  stand  behind  my  back  and  would  shout 
to  the  infuriated  mob  with  all  the  force  of  her  lungs, 
and  tell  them  whose  this  child  is,  and  then  do  you 


320  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

know  in  whose  he<irt  this  knife  would  be  plunged 
first  of  all?'' 

A  sort  of  painful  wail  came  from  below  the  dark 
window,  like  the  sounds  that  are  heard  in  a  deserted, 
dilapidated  old  fortress  where  the  whole  building 
is  ever  sighing  and  moaning,  and  none  can  tell 
whence  the  noise  comes. 

During  the  virago's  muttered  discourse  the  bolder 
spirits  among  the  mob  had  gradually  flitted  back 
again  into  the  courtyard.  They  perceived  that  the 
headsman's  wife  was  not  afraid,  and  this  of  itself 
gave  them  courage.  Some  of  them  even  drew  near 
to  the  threshold  of  the  house,  where  they  pricked 
up  their  ears  and  did  their  best  to  catch  something 
of  what  the  woman  was  talking  about  so  mysteri- 
ously.    It  might  be  worth  their  while  to  hear. 

Dame  Zudar  began  sharpening  the  knife  against 
the  stone  ledge  of  the  castle  window. 

"  I  give  you  three  minutes  to  think  it  over,"  she 
now  exclaimed  aloud.  "  If  you  then  say :  let  there 
be  bloodshed !  bloodshed  there  shall  be." 

And  with  that  she  turned  back  to  the  child. 

There  she  stood  in  front  of  the  castle  threshold, 
with  the  heavenly  resignation  of  a  martyr  on  her 
pale,  innocent  face.  She  appeared  to  be  quite 
undisturbed  by  the  dreadful  scene  before  her.  The 
thought  that  she  was  now  about  to  die  absorbed  all 
her  faculties. 

*'  Kneel  down !  "  cried  the  virago  coldly. 

The  child  took  her  at  her  word,  and  knelt  dowB 
on  the  lowest  of  the  flight  of  steps. 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    311 

*  Pray,  if  you  have  a  mind  that  way." 
The  child  devoutly  raised  her  eyes  to  Heaven, 
and  holding  the  lighted  candle  in  front  of  her  in  her 
tiny  hands,  began  to  sing  this  verse  of  a  hymn : 

"  The  Lord  my  God,  I  praise  and  bless, 
For  He  hath  heard  my  soul's  distress, 
And  hath  inclined  His  ear  to  me 
Who  love  Him  through  eternity." 

To  many  it  seemed,  while  the  child's  quavering 
▼oice  was  intoning  the  sad  melody,  as  if,  either 
hoai  the  midst  of  the  crowd,  or  from  some  comer 
dose  at  hand,  a  man's  voice  was  accompanying  the 
tune  in  a  subdued  voice,  dweUing  upon  the  final 
notes,  as  they  do  in  church. 

Who  could  it  be? 

None  could  say  whence  the  accompanying  voice 
proceeded 

A  cold  shudder  ran  down  Dame  Zuddr's  back. 
It  was  the  voice  of  the  headsman ! 

But  what  a  mad  idea !  Men  no  longer  come  forth 
unhurt  from  the  midst  of  the  fire,  as  did  the  three 
holy  children  in  the  days  of  Nebuchadnezzar. 

So  she  strengthened  her  heart,  marched  up  to  the 
door,  and  began  thundering  upon  it  with  her  fists. 

"  The  three  minutes  for  consideration  is  now  up. 
My  old  enemy  and  my  young  enemy,  you  must  now 
open  the  door  and  come  forth." 

The  crowd  waited  in  hushed  suspense  for  what 
would  come  next. 

Why  did  not  the  people  inside  fire  beneath  the 


$U  THE   DAY    OF   WRATH. 

sure  protection  of  their  stronghold?  What  spell 
had  this  woman  cast  over  them?  Had  she  really 
the  power,  then,  to  break  through  bolts  and  bars 
with  a  mere  word,  a  mere  look? 

"One,  two,  three!" 

Still  not  a  sound. 

Then  the  virago,  with  a  haughty  look,  turned 
towards  the  people,  and  addressed  them  with  a 
penetrating  voice : 

"If  they  won't  speak  I  will.  Friends  and  com- 
rades, these  bigwigs  here  have  sworn  our  ruin. 
They  want  to  root  out  the  whole  lot  of  us,  why» 
then,  should  we  have  mercy  on  them?  Now,  how- 
ever, it  is  not  we  who  are  in  their  power,  but  th^ 
who  are  in  ours.  Their  own  sins  have  delivered 
them  into  my  hands.  You  know,  and  the  whole 
world  knows,  that  that  stuck-up  gentleman  yonder, 
Szephalmi,  Esq.,  once  upon  a  time  exposed  his  first- 
born child.  He  cast  it  forth  in  the  wilderness,  cast 
it  forth  among  the  wild  beasts,  because  he  feared 
the  shame  of  it  forsooth ! — ^ha,  ha,  ha !  Has  a  poor 
man  ever  done  the  like  of  that?  Aye,  and  it  was 
a  poor  man  who  found  the  child,  it  was  a  poor  man 
who  had  compassion  on  the  little  outcast  thrown 
in  his  way,  it  was  a  poor  man  who  brought  it  up  as 
if  it  were  his  own  child.  And  now,  if  you  please^ 
these  high  and  noble  gentlemen  cast  poison  into 
the  wells  of  the  poor  man  that  they  may  destroy 
him,  root  and  branch." 

The  mob  listened  to  these  murderous  words  with 
ever  increasing  eagerness. 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    313 

At  the  same  time  it  did  not  escape  Dame  Zudir's 
attention  that  a  key  had  been  put  into  the  iron  door 
of  the  castle  from  the  inside,  and  that  it  was  being 
turned  softly. 

So  now  she  fell  a-shouting  more  noisily  than  ever. 

"Before  you  kneels  the  foster-daughter  of  the 
headsman's  wife.  Who  was  that  child's  mother? 
who  gave  her  to  the  headsman's  wife?  Her  mother, 
I  tell  you,  was  a  great  lady,  none  other  than  Ben- 
jamin Hetfalusy's  daughter,  whom  the  wrath  of  God 
smote  down  together  with  that  little  murderer,  her 
infant  son.  I  nourished  and  brought  up  that  child) 
and  what  thanks  did  I  get  for  it?  Only  this :  that 
these  bigwigs  have  determined  to  kill  us  all  by 
poisoning  our  meat  and  drink,  that  they  may  there- 
by bury  their  shameful  secret  But  I  declare  their 
design  aloud,  so  that  every  man  may  know  it.  This 
girl  is  Hetfalusy's  grand-daughter.  This  girl  is  in 
our  power,  and  if  these  fine  gentlemen  so  much  as 
crumple  a  single  hair  of  any  of  your  heads,  I  will 
plunge  this  knife  into  the  child's  heart." 

A  confused,  savage  murmur  ran  through  the  mob 
at  these  grim  words,  which  seemed  to  intoxicate  the 
hearts  of  all  who  heard  them  with  a  fiendish  cruelty. 

And  Dame  Zudar,  listening  attentively,  heard  the 
key  turn  in  the  door  a  second  time. 

She  was  well  prepared  for  what  would  follow. 

She  now  stepped  behind  the  child,  woimd  its 
beautiful  blonde  tresses  round  her  left  hand,  and 
with  her  right  grasped  the  handle  of  the  knife 
convulsively. 


$1^  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

**  Oh,  God,  my  God!  "  cried  Elise's  bell-like  voice. 

At  that  same  instant  the  iron  door  opened  wide, 

and  between  its  receding  wings  stood  a  spectre— 

a  spectre  Wcis  the  only  name  for  it,  as  it  had  no 

resemblance  to  anything  human. 

A  pale  face,  like  the  face  of  one  arisen  from  the 
tomb,  white  dishevelled  hair  clinging  round  his 
temples  and  hanging  over  his  bloodshot  eyes.  He 
had  wrapped  a  long  mantle  over  his  white  night-dress 
which  fluttered  about  him  like  the  wings  of  a  bat 
It  was  old  Hetfalusy. 

In  each  hand  he  held  a  loaded  pistol,  and  as  the 
c^>ening  door  groaned  on  its  hinges  he  cried  in  a 
hoarse  voice : 

"Here  I  am,  but  whoever  dares  to  lay  a  hand 
upon  the  girl,  him  will  I  shoot  first  and  the  girl 
afterwards." 

But  it  was  a  threat  which  excited  little  terror, 
his  hands  trembled  so  and  his  eyes  were  scarce  able 
to  see  what  was  before  them. 

Nobody  followed  him  He  passed  through  the 
door  alone. 

The  Leather-bell,  however,  was  so  terrified  lest 
he  should  carry  out  his  threat  that  he  threw  himself 
at  the  old  man's  feet,  and  embracing  his  knees, 
piteously  besought  him : 

"  Master,  master,  oh,  my  dear  master !  don't  fire^ 
for  God's  sake !  Lay  down  your  pistols.  I  assure 
you  that  nobody  here  will  hurt  you." 

"  Will  ye  swear,  then,  that  you  will  do  the  child 
no  iKirm?  "  gasped  old  Hetfalusy. 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    315 

"  Put  down  your  weapons !  "  cried  the  rioters. 

"  Swear  that  you  will  not  harm  her  in  any  way, 
and  then  I  will  put  them  down." 

"  Very  well,  we  swear ! "  cried  some  in  the  rear 
of  the  crowd. 

"  Let  that  woman  swear  too,"  said  H^tfalusy, 
pointing  at  Dame  Zuddr  with  a  shaking  hand. 
None  of  them  did  he  hold  in  such  horror  as  her. 

The  virago  smiled  and  twiddled  the  knife 
between  her  fingers.  Craftily  lowering  her  eyes, 
and  casting  a  side-long  glance  at  the  old  man,  she 
replied : 

"  And  by  whom,  then,  am  I  to  swear?  " 

"  By  the  name  of  God,  the  living  God" 

"  But  what  shall  I  swear?  " 

"  Swear  that  neither  you  yourself,  nor  any  of  your 
companions,  will  do  this  child  any  harm,  whosoever 
child  she  is,  and  whether  what  you  allege  concern- 
ing her  be  true  or  not" 

"Nothing  else?" 

"Nothing." 

"  Would  you  not  save  your  own  grey  hairs  from 
being  crumpled  then?  " 

"  May  the  Almighty  dispose  of  me  as  it  seemeth 
Him  good." 

"Then  I  will  take  the  oath,"  cried  the  virago, 
and,  raising  her  muscular  right  arm  heavenwcurds, 
she  cried : 

"No  harm  shall  come  to  the  child,  so  help  me, 
God!" 

Then  Hetfalusy  calmly  surrendered  his  jHstols  to 


3i6  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

the  Leather-bell,  who  politely  kissed  his  hand  for 
so  doing,  and  straightway  fired  the  pistols  off  in  the 
air,  so  that  they  might  do  no  harm  to  anyone. 

The  same  instant  the  blaspheming  mob  fell  upon 
the  defenceless  squire,  tore  at  his  grey  locks  and 
impotent  limbs,  and  hurled  him  to  the  ground. 

"  Smash  him,  kill  him,  the  poison-mixer !  ** 
resounded  from  every  side,  and  the  bloodthirsty 
cowards  rushed  furiously  from  their  hiding-places 
with  cudgels  and  flails,  to  the  spot  where  the 
defenceless  old  squire  was  lying. 

The  worthy  Leather-bell  had  not  another  word 
to  say,  but  he  cast  himself  at  full  length  upon  the 
prostrate  gentleman,  and,  tightly  embracing  his  frail 
figure,  defended  him  with  his  own  body  from  the 
first  onset  of  the  raging  mob. 

In  vain  they  pummelled,  in  vain  they  kicked  him, 
his  self-sacrificing  back  endured  everything,  and 
patiendy  received  the  beating  intended  for  his 
master. 

The  poor  fellow,  after  all,  would  really  have  been 
m  very  good  man  if  only  he  had  not  been  so  very 
simple. 

"  Clear  out,  will  you ! "  cried  Dame  Zuddr  and 
Thomas  Bodza  simultaneously,  "we  must  not  kill 
him.  We  want  to  get  something  out  of  him,  so  he 
must  live.  Let  no  one  hurt  him,  then,  till  he  has 
received  his  sentence." 

At  last  the  two  ringleaders  succeeded  in  clearing 
away  the  furious  mob  from  the  mauled  and  trampled 
body  of  the  squire.      Then  they  raised  him  from 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    317 

the  ground,  tied  his  hands  together,  and  fastened 
him  tightly  by  one  lean  arm  to  the  trellised  gate  of 
the  castle.  Blood  oozed  from  the  old  man's  limbs 
beneath  the  pressure  of  the  rough  cord,  yet,  with 
not  so  much  as  a  groan  did  Benjamin  Hetfalusy 
betray  the  torture  he  was  suffering. 


And  thou,  oh,  man,  in  thy  fiery  pit,  art  thou  still 
singing  thy  hymns  below  there,  art  thou  still  testing 
the  edge  of  thy  sword  with  the  tips  of  thy  fingers, 
just  as  if  it  were  the  string  of  some  sad  and  delicate 
musical  instrument,  which  can  give  forth  but  one 
voice,  and  that  the  voice  of  a  sad,  sad  song? 

The  heat  of  the  collapsed  dwelling  was  now 
penetrating  to  the  cellar  below,  and  the  straitened 
prisoner  began  to  bethink  him  of  some  other  place 
of  refuge. 

Instead  of  the  fierce  crackle  of  the  flames  which 
had  met  his  ear  hitherto,  he  now  could  only  hear  a 
monotonous  flickering  as  of  expiring  embers,  and 
this  lasted  for  a  long  time,  when  suddenly  a  fresh 
noise  attracted  his  attention. 

Not  far  from  his  hiding-place  something  began 
to  sound  like  the  voice  of  a  wind-clapper.  At  first 
it  went  clap !  clap !  clap !  very  rapidly,  but  gradually 
the  strokes  grew  slower  and  slower,  tapering  down 
at  last  to  single  beats  at  long  intervals. 

Whoever  has  attentively  watched  the  doors  of  a 
metal  furnace,  will  know  at  once  how  that  sound 


3x8  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

arises.  When  the  heat  of  the  fire  which  has  ex- 
panded the  metal  begins  to  decrease,  the  expanded 
fibres  of  the  metal  suddenly  begin  to  contract  and 
give  forth  a  snapping  sound  as  of  metal  strings 
violently  torn  asunder. 

The  iron  door  of  the  cellar  was,  in  fact,  loudly 
calling  the  attention  of  the  master  of  the  house  to 
the  fact  that  the  fire  had  reduced  all  the  brushwood 
piled  round  the  house  into  red-hot  embers,  and  it 
was  therefore  high  time  for  him  to  seek  another 
asylum. 

Peter  Zuddr  seized  a  large  measure  of  beer, 
approached  the  door,  and  flung  the  malt  liquid  all 
over  it 

Ha!  how  loudly  the  glowing  metal  hissed  and 
spluttered  at  the  contact  of  the  cold  fluid,  as  if 
laughing  with  joy  at  the  artful  scheme  which  it 
and  the  master  together  had  devised  for  the  latter*s 
deliverance. 

The  iron  door  was  far  too  burning  hot  to  be 
opened  with  the  naked  hcind,  but  the  blood-red 
glare  visible  behind  it  made  it  pretty  certain  that 
the  lead  soldering  had  long  ago  melted  away,  and 
it  therefore  only  needed  a  vigorous  kick  to  wrench 
it  off  its  hinges. 

Peter  Zudar  listened  attentively.  Not  a  soul  was 
stirring.  There  was  indeed  no  reason  why  anyone 
should  linger  any  longer  in  that  wretched  place. 

Impatience  spurred  him  on  to  action.  He  began 
to  lift  the  door  from  its  hinges  with  the  help  of  a 
heavy  crowbar.    It  gave  way  sooner  than  he  had 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    319 

anticipated,  and  fell  at  full  length  on  the  smoking 
embers  in  front  of  it,  bridging  over  the  fiery  stream 
from  one  bank  to  the  other. 

With  a  single  bound  Peter  Zuddr  leaped  over  the 
door,  and  sped  away  from  the  burning  house  like 
a  madman. 

It  was  dark,  nobody  saw  him.  In  his  way  stood 
huge  thistles,  prickly-headed  vegetable  monsters, 
and  Peter  Zudar  mowed  them  all  down  with  his 
headsman's  sword  just  as  if  they  had  been  so  many 
condemned  malefactors,  or  as  if  he  were  a  froHc- 
some  lad  waging  fierce  war  with  a  wooden  sword 
against  the  whole  evil  host  of  weeds.  Anybody  who 
had  seen  him  would  have  taken  him  for  a  lunatic. 

He  only  came  to  himself  when  the  barking  of  a 
dog  struck  upon  his  ear ;  he  knew  then  that  he  was 
on  the  borders  of  the  village,  and  close  to  the 
nearest  houses. 

Then  he  began  slowly  to  compose  himself,  the 
cool  night  air  was  soothing  his  troubled  brain.  He 
now  commenced  to  recollect  what  held  happened  to 
him  during  the  last  few  hours.  The  riot,  the  seizure 
of  the  child,  the  house  burnt  over  his  head,  the 
agony  he  had  endured  in  the  cellar — ^all  these  things 
flashed  like  vivid  pictures  before  his  mind  again. 

But  what  had  become  of  the  child?  What  did 
they  want  to  do  with  her?  To  kill  her  perhaps?— 
these  were  his  first  thoughts.  Then  he  began  to 
consider  how  he  might  discover  her  whereabouts 
and  rescue  her.  Vengeance  was  the  last  thing  be 
thought  of. 


320  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

He  had  no  suspicion  as  to  whom  the  raging  mob 
had  risen  against  He  fancied  that  the  child  was 
the  pivot  of  the  whole  ghastly  affair.  He  was 
persuaded  all  along  that  they  had  sought  her  death, 
and  would  murder  her,  and  the  idea  of  such  a  thing 
was  all  the  more  terrible  to  him  because  he  did  not 
know  the  reason  why.  So  much,  however,  he  did 
know,  that  his  own  wife  was  the  person  most  to  be 
feared. 

He  was  fully  sensible  that  there  was  no  time  to 
lodge  a  complaint  with  the  magistrate,  the  priest, 
or  the  local  court,  and  await  a  heavy  sentence.  This 
was  a  peculiar  case  in  which  the  headsman  himself 
must  investigate,  condemn,  and  execute  the  sentence 
— and  was  not  the  sword  of  Justice  already  in  his 
hands? 

And  as  he  stood  there,  leaning  against  a  fences 
in  a  brown  study,  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  heard 
from  the  midst  of  the  village  the  very  hymn  which 
he  had  sui^  so  often  with  his  darling  before  their 
evening  repose : 

"  The  Lord,  my  God,  I  praise  and  bless." 

He  listened  attentively.  It  was  no  delusioa 
They  were  really  the  words  of  the  hymn,  the  child's 
voice  was  really  singing  them. 

At  first  he  fancied  that  his  darling  was  in  some 
other  world,  and  was  speaking  to  him  from  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven,  and  he  lifted  up  his  voice  like- 
wise, and  sang  back  again,  his  deep  sonorous  voice 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACKL    sai 

sounding  like  a  magnified  echo  of  the  bell-like 
childish  voice. 

Subsequently,  however,  it  occurred  to  him  that 
perhaps  the  child  was  locked  up  somewhere,  and 
wanted  to  let  him  know  where  she  was  by  singing 
the  hymn. 

Suddenly  there  arose  a  hideous  shout  from  the 
courtyard  of  the  castle,  the  inarticulate  roar  of 
hundreds  and  hundreds  of  savage  men,  whose  very 
throats  seemed  to  thirst  for  blood 

At  that  same  instant  H6tfalusy  had  surrendered 
his  arms  to  his  assailants. 

Peter  Zuddr  lost  not  another  instant  in  reflection, 
but  turned  up  his  shirt-sleeves,  smoothed  away  his 
hair  from  his  eyes,  and  rushed  towards  the  castle. 

A  long  lane  separated  him  from  the  residential 
paxt  of  the  mansion,  but  not  choosing  to  follow  it 
along  its  whole  length,  he  waited  till  he  saw  the 
pinnacles  of  the  castle,  and  then  took  a  short  cut 
over  hedge  and  ditch,  dashing  along  straight  before 
him  heedless  of  everything. 


The  infuriated  mob  which,  after  being  cowed  by 
the  mere  show  of  resistance,  beccime  all  the  more 
brutal  at  the  first  symptom  of  surrender,  after 
Hetfalusy  had  laid  down  his  arms,  was  able  to  glut 
its  brutal  ra^e,  at  will,  on  the  old  gentleman  who  had 
thus  become  its  victim. 

But  it  was  lost  labour. 

X 


$22  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

What  satisfaction  can  there  be  in  the  torturing 
of  a  withered  stump  which  is  dumb  to  all  outrage? 
— ^it  is  as  fruitless  a  business  as  flogging  a  corpse! 

The  old  squire  did  not  demean  himself  by  a  single 
outcry  of  pain. 

When  they  wanted  him  to  confess  that  the  gentry 
had  banded  together  to  extirpate  the  peasantry,  he 
coldly  replied : 

"  That  is  not  true." 

Every  denial  on  his  part  was  followed  by  inhuman 
tortures.  But  they  were  but  tormenting  a  frigid 
skeleton  insensible  to  pain,  who  only  replied,  again 
and  again : 

"That  is  not  true!" 

The  invading  mob,  after  breaking  everything  in 
the  castle  it  could  lay  its  hands  upon,  began  search- 
ing for  young  Szephalmi  and  the  doctor. 

They  must  have  hidden  well,  for  nowhere  could 
they  be  found.  The  mob  turned  all  the  rooms 
upside  down,  and  yet  it  could  not  find  them. 

The  old  man  must  certainly  know  where  they 
were  stowed  away. 

But  H'6tfalusy  would  not  betray  his  son-in-law  or 
the  doctor. 

Amongst  his  executioners  shaggy  Handk  particu- 
larly distinguished  himself  by  his  fiendish  ingenuity, 
but  the  squire  only  remarked  to  him  in  a  gentle 
voice : 

"  Do  you  recollect,  Handk,  how  last  year,  you 
were  bedridden,  and  I  supported  your  whole  family? 
And  when  your  biggest  lad  was  taken  by  the 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    333 

recruiting  sergeant,  did  I  not  buy  him  out?  And 
when  the  hail  destroyed  your  crops,  did  I  not  give 
you  the  com  on  which  you  and  your  whole  family 
lived  comfortably  during  the  winter  ?  " 

But  at  this  mild  reproach,  stubbly  Handk  only 
wiped  his  bloody  mouth,  and  bellowed  with  bestial 
pride : 

"  There's  no  Handk  here !  Vm  Hanik  no  longer. 
I'm  a  rebel  patriot,  that's  what  I  am !  " 

The  poor  Leather-bell  was  quite  imable  to  help 
his  master.  He  could  only  implore  the  rioters  to 
torture  him  if  they  liked  rather  than  H6tfalusy. 
He  knew  he  was  the  cause  of  it  all  because  he  had 
talked  about  the  poison.  He  wished  now  that  he 
had  eaten  of  the  poison  and  died 

Dame  Zuddr,  meanwhile,  had  been  regarding  the 
sufferings  of  her  mortal  foe  with  devilish  enjoy- 
ment 

There  she  stood,  her  arms  folded  across  her 
breast,  facing  her  enemy,  whose  warm  blood 
frequently  spurted  over  her  face. 

"*Tis  no  good  hiurting  him  that  way,"  she 
murmured  to  herself.  "A  boor  howls  if  you  nip 
him,  this  sort  only  holds  his  tongue  just  as  if  he 
had  a  soul  different  from  the  others.     .    .    .** 

"This  was  the  very  spot  where  you  made  my 
father  bleed,"  she  cried  "  Do  you  recollect 
Dudoky,  eh?  There  he  lay,  where  you  lie  now, 
and  you  stood  beside  him,  as  I  now  stand  beside 
you,  and  revelled  in  it  But  my  father  wept  and 
howled  beneath  his  torments  while  you  only  keep 


$24^  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

silent  I  could  not  bear  to  look  on,  I  ran  away 
and  hid  myself  in  my  room,  but  there  also  I  kept 
on  hearing  his  shrieks.  I  heard  them  through  two 
thick  walls.  Twenty  years  have  passed  since  then, 
and  through  those  twenty  years  I  still  hear  him. 
I  want  to  hear  you  weep  too,  and  not  mock  your 
executioners  by  putting  on  a  stone-cold  face  hke 
that.  Yes,  you  shall  weep,  you  shall  entreat  I  will 
not  be  happy  till  I  see  your  eyes  full  of  tears." 

Hetfalusy  regarded  the  fury  contemptuously,  and 
knitted  his  lips. 

And  then  he  called  her  a  name,  a  low,  degrading 
name,  the  worst  of  all  names  that  a  man  can  call 
a  woman. 

With  a  hiss  of  rage  the  virago  rushed  upon  him 
with  the  frantic  idea  of  plimging  her  knife  in  his 
haert. 

But  nay,  not  so. 

Her  face  was  white  with  fury,  her  whole  frame 
trembled. 

"  I  became  that  all  through  you ! "  she  gasped 
with  husky  rage.  "  But  you  will  not  mock  me  for 
it  much  longer.  Do  you  see  your  grandchild  here 
in  my  power?" 

"  You  swore  you  would  not  hurt  her.'* 

"  I  swore  I  would  not  kill  her,  but  I  will  make  her 
what  I  was.  By  Heaven  and  Earth  and  all  the 
torments  of  Hell,  I  swear  I  will  do  it" 

"  Woman ! "  stammered  Hetfalusy,  and  his  face 
lost  at  last  its  expression  of  stony  endurance. 

"  Hla4ik! "  criieil  the  virago,  with  a  lat^h  like  the 


TIS  WELL  THAT  THE  NIGHT  IS  BLACK.    325 

howl  of  a  wild  beast  "  The  last  scion  of  the  house 
of  H6tfalusy  will  do  credit  to  a  house  of  ill-fame. 
Look  how  lovely  she  is!  Look  at  her  face,  her 
figure,  her  eyes!  As  innocent  as  an  angel  too! 
Ah!  you  are  weeping  now,  are  you?  But  you  will 
have  to  weep  tears  of  blood,  you  accursed  old 
wretch,  for  what  I  say  I  mean  to  do !  " 

"  Wonmi,  if  you  believe  in  God "  began  the 

old  man,  writhing  to  free  himself  from  his  bonds. 

"  I  don't ! "  the  woman  yelled  back  defiantly. 
**  There  is  no  God !  " 

At  that  same  instant  her  head  leaped  so  suddenly 
into  the  ak  that  her  body  remained  standing  up- 
right, three  long  jets  of  blood  at  the  same  time 
shooting  up  from  between  her  vacant  shoulders. 
Her  two  hands  still  fumbled  about  in  the  air  as  if 
they  would  have  drawn  back  the  uttered  blasphemy 
and  defended  her  against  this  terrible  judgment, 
and  then  the  whole  figure  collapsed  in  the  direction 
of  the  fallen  head,  which  lay  with  its  face  turned 
heavenwards,  and  its  mouth  gaping  open,  as  if 
longing  to  speak,  whilst  the  tongue  still  moved, 
perchance,  asking  mercy  or  pardon  from  Heaven. 
Too  late,  too  late !  There  was  no  longer  any  power 
of  utterance  there.  Once  or  twice  there  was  a 
twitching  of  the  eyelids  over  the  stiffening  staring 
eyes,  till  at  last  they  closed  painfully  in  the  dream 
of  death. 

And  above  the  condemned  sinner  towered  the 
form  of  the  avenger  of  sin — ^the  headsman- 


CHAPTER   XVIL 

THE    VOICE    OF    THE    LORD. 

During  the  blasphemous  speech  of  the  frantic 
virago  nobody  had  observed  that  Peter  Zuddr  had 
reached  the  courtyard  of  the  castle.  In  the  dark- 
ness and  prevailing  confusion  he  had  been  able  to 
creep  up  to  the  wretched  woman  unobserved 

He  had  heard  to  the  end  her  furious  outburst,  her 
horrible  menace.  He  had  seen  the  convulsions  of 
the  stony-hearted  squire  in  the  midst  of  his  fetters, 
he  had  seen  the  tender  child  collapse  beneath  the 
touch  of  the  horrible  virago,  and  he  had  fulfilled 
his  mission. 

The  people,  who  in  that  awful  moment  had  seen 
his  bright  sword  flash  forth  like  Heaven's  lightning, 
who  had  seen  the  monstrously  mutilated  body  of  the 
woman  totter  in  their  midst,  and  spurt  blood  on  all 
the  bystanders,  who  had  seen  the  awe-inspiring 
figure  of  the  headsman  close  to  them  all,  him  whom 
they  had  fancied  dead  and  buried,  him  whom  their 
own  eyes  had  seen  burnt  to  ashes — ^all  these  people 
stood  for  a  moment  as  if  turned  to  stone,  as  if  their 
souls  had  left  their  bodies. 

This  brief  interval  of  petrified  astonishment  was 


THE  VOICE  OF  THE  LORD.  327 

sufficient  for  Peter  Zuddr  to  snatch  up  the  sorrowing 
child  with  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he  whirled 
his  bloody  sword  above  his  head,  and  opened  a  way 
for  himself  to  the  gate. 

Then,  when  the  rioters  saw  him  escaping,  they 
came  to  themselves  again. 

"  After  him !  "  cried  Hanak,  catching  hold  of  his 
scythe. 

**  After  him ! "  roared  the  Leather-bell,  grasping 
a  torch,  and  bounding  on  in  front,  and  so  skilfully 
did  he  scatter  the  sparks  in  the  eyes  of  the  pursuers, 
that  their  dazzled  eyes  could  see  absolutely  nothing. 
When,  at  last,  he  came  to  a  narrow  bridge  over  a 
stream  which  they  had  to  cross,  he  stumbled  so 
suddenly  that  those  coming  immediately  behind 
tumbled  over  him,  and  the  torch  was  extinguished 
in  the  water.  Zudar,  meanwhile,  had  had  time  to 
conceal  himself  and  the  girl  in  the  bushes  on  the 
banks  of  the  stream.  Nobody  had  observed  him 
except  the  Leather-bell,  and  as  soon  as  that  worthy 
could  gain  his  legs  again  he  fell  a-bellowing  with 
all  his  might : 

"  On,  on!  there  he  goes!  catch  him,  seize  him!  * 

And  off  he  went  at  full  tilt,  as  if  a  high  price  had 
been  set  upon  the  head  of  the  pursued,  and  he  was 
determined  to  win  it,  whilst  Zuddr,  snug  in  his 
hiding-place,  listened  to  the  hundreds  and  hundreds 
of  pattering  feet  that  made  the  bridge  creak  over 
his  head,  and  to  the  hundreds  and  hundreds  of 
hoarse  voices  clamouring  for  his  blood  Presently 
he  heard  them  all  come  panting  back  again,  cursing 


328  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

and  swearing  and  consoling  one  another  with  the! 
assurance  that  although  they  had  not  caught  him 
now,  he  would  not  be  able  to  escape  them  for  long. 

"  Yes,"  he  thought  to  himself,  "  a  time  is  coming 
when  you  will  find  me  without  having  sought  me." 

And  now  the  pursuing  band^  full  of  fresh  fury, 
stormed  back  to  the  castle.  The  Leather-bell 
cursed  them  for  not  following  up  the  trail  when 
they  were  already  hot  upon  it  He  had  had,  he 
maintained,  the  tail  of  the  fugitive's  coat  in  his 
very  hand,  but  had  been  obliged  to  leave  go  because 
they  had  not  helped  him  to  hold  on,  and  so  the 
headsman  had  fled  away  among  the  maize-fields. 

The  sky  was  now  growing  grey,  the  dawn  was  not 
far  off ;  but  the  folks  had  forgotten  to  ring  in  the 
morning,  for  the  bell-ringers  had  something  better 
to  do. 

At  Thomas  Bodza*s  command  they  carried  the 
corpses  aside  out  of  the  courtyard,  the  corpses  of 
Ivan,  Dame  Zuddr,  and  poor  Mekipiros.  They 
conveyed  them  to  a  large  ditch  at  the  bcick  of  the 
house,  so  that  none  might  see  their  remains. 

The  surviving  ringleader  felt  a  secret  satisfaction 
when  his  collea.gues  had  thus  perished  by  his  side. 
He  alone  remained  upon  the  field,  and  he  flattered 
himself  that  Fate  was  on  his  side,  and  by  thus 
putting  the  leading  threads  of  the  whole  movement 
into  his  hands,  meant  to  emphasize  the  fact  that 
mind  was  the  true  motive-power — ^his  own  mind 
naturally — and  therefore  it  ^  was  for  him,  and  him 
alone,  to  hold  sway. 


THE  VOICE  OF  THE  LORD  329 

The  mob  must  be  impressed,  of  course,  by  some 
great  never-to-be-forgotten  scene,  which  would  give 
a  touch  of  sublimity  to  its  hitherto  low  and  common 
rioting. 

So  Thomas  Bodza  ascended  to  the  highest  step 
of  the  castle  staircase,  from  whence  he  declared  to 
the  mob  that  as  the  champions  of  justice  they  had 
prevailed 

"And  now,"  continued  he,  "we  will  pronounce 
judgment  on  the  poison-mixers  according  to  the 
good  old  Greek  custom.  Let  the  people  take  pot- 
sherds in  their  hands.  In  front  of  the  hall  stand 
two  urns.  In  one  is  life,  in  the  other  death.  Let 
each  one  of  you  cast  his  vote  into  which  urn  he 
pleases.  This,  my  friends,  is  the  ostracism  of 
classical  times.  You  are  the  archons  who  shall  give 
judgment,  and  the  whole  world  will  thus  see  that 
we  exercise  according  to  law  and  order  the  authority 
which  we  have  won  with  our  arms.  Sit  around 
me,  therefore,  oh,  citizens,  and  let  the  accused  be 
brought  forth!" 

The  gaping  mob  was  delighted  with  this  new 
diversion. 

Hitherto  the  only  occasion  on  which  they  had  had 
an  opportunity  of  seeing  a  court  of  justice  was  when 
they  had  been  led  in  chains,  for  some  crime  or 
other,  before  the  green  table  of  the  district  court, 
where  great  gentlemen  pronounced  sentences  upon 
them  out  of  big  thick  books.  And  now  one  of 
these  very  great  gentlemen  was,  in  his  turn,  to 
stand  before  a  tribunal,  and  the  tribimal  consisted 


330  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

of  nothing  but  peasants,  whose  hair  had  never  been 
clipped,  who  had  never  worn  linen,  who  could 
neither  read  nor  write,  and  yet  who  now  had  the 
power  of  passing  upon  him  whatever  sentence  they 
chose.  So  they  all  applauded  Bodza's  proposition 
loudly,  whilst  he  himself,  with  an  air  of  ineffable 
importance,  sat  down  on  the  topmost  step  of  the 
staircase,  and  beckoned  to  his  subordinates  to  lead 
forth  the  old  squire. 

He  gave  very  little  trouble,  it  was  not  even 
necessary  to  fetter  him,  for  the  moment  he  was 
untied  from  the  doorpost  he  simply  collapsed  and 
remained  lying  where  he  had  fallen. 

Then  they  put  him  on  an  ambulance  car,  ctnd  thus 
conveyed  him  before  the  Areopagus. 

One  worthy  peasant  had  compassion  on  the  old 
man  lying  there  in  his  shirt  exposed  to  the  cold 
morning  air,  and  covered  him  with  his  guba*  yet 
this  very  man  voted  for  his  death  a  few  moments 
later. 

Meanwhile,  stubbly  Hanak  had  placed  behind  the 
old  man's  back  a  gipsy  brickmaker  to  keep  an  eye 
on  him,  and  touch  him  up  with  a  whip  if  he  refused 
to  confess. 

Thomas  Bodza  now  produced  the  box  of  bismuth 
that  had  been  found  in  the  castle,  and,  cautiously 
opening  it,  placed  it  in  front  of  the  old  squire. 

"  You  old  sinner,"  said  he,  "  answer  my  questions 
truly.     Why  did  they  send  you  so  much  poison?  " 

*  A  sha^^  woollen  mantle  worn  by  the  Hungarian  peasants. 


THE   VOICE   OF  THE   LORD.  331 

The  old  gentleman  remained  silent 

The  gipsy  savagely  belaboured  his  dove-white 
head  with  the  heavy  whip. 

At  the  sound  of  the  blows,  an  angry  voice 
suddenly  resounded  from  behind  the  master's  back. 

"Hold  hard,  hold  hard!  you  blockheads,  you 
brutes,  you  stupid  numbskulls !  " 

Bodza,  in  his  terror,  sprang  from  his  seat,  and  the 
astonished  multitude  beheld  Dr.  Sarkantyus  running 
hastily  towards  them  along  the  hall. 

The  worthy  man  had  been  well  concealed  with 
young  Sz6phalmi  in  a  blind  niche,  in  the  chimney 
comer,  whence  he  had  listened  to  the  whole  horrible 
tragedy ;  but  when  it  came  to  accusing  someone  of 
poisoning  j>eople  with  his  drugs,  he  could  stand  it 
no  longer,  but  kicked  open  the  tapestried  door,  and 
rushed  out  among  the  rioters. 

Young  Szephalmi  swooned  with  terror  when  his 
hiding-place  was  discovered,  so  that  they  had  to 
drag  him  out  by  the  feet. 

The  unexpected  joy  of  laying  hands  upon  a 
couple  of  fresh  victims  whom  they  had  long  sought 
in  vain,  whetted  the  appetite  of  the  mob  for  more 
blood.  They  kept  pummelling  Szephalmi  till  he 
came  to  again,  and  tied  the  physician  back  to  back 
with  H6tfalusy. 

Throughout  the  whole  tussle  Dr.  Sarkantyus 
never  ceased  blackguarding  the  rioters  for  their 
imbecile  suspicion  of  medical  science,  and  tried  to 
explain  to  Thomas  Bodza  how  very  much  in  error 
he  was  as  to  the  contents  of  the  box. 


33«  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

Only  Szephalmi  displayed  an  utter  want  of 
dignity.  He  wept,  he  implored,  he  fell  on  his  knees^ 
and  promised  to  confess  everything  if  only  they 
would  not  hurt  him,  if  only  they  would  not  kill  him. 
lie  was  not  guilty,  he  said,  and  he  cursed  the  doctor 
for  bringing  all  this  mischief  on  the  house  with  his 
abominable  drugs  and  betraying  their  hiding-place 
so  madly. 

"Mr.  Szephalmi,"  retorted  Dr.  Sarkantyus,  "all 
my  life  long  I  have  taken  you  for  a  poor  creature, 
and  in  that  belief  I  shall  for  ever  remain.  If  you 
could  remain  quietly  in  your  hiding-place  when  they 
were  talking  of  your  only  daughter,  if  you  could 
hold  your  breath  and  your  ears  and  tremble  in  every 
limb  when  they  were  torturing  your  father-in-law — 
well,  that's  your  look  out.  As  for  me,  if  only  I  can 
unmask  a  downright  lie,  I  am  quite  content  to  look 
death  itself  between  the  eyes  immediately  after. 
Ever  since  you  fainted  at  the  prick  of  a  leech,  and 
were  not  ashamed  to  burst  into  tears  when  I  cut 
out  one  of  your  warts,  I  knew  you  to  be  a  coward. 
Yes,  a  coward  you  are,  and  a  very  poor  creature  to 
boot ;  but  whatever  else  I  am,  I  am  not  that  Twice 
have  I  broken  the  bone  of  my  own  leg  because  it 
was  improperly  set,  and  I  am  ready  to  have  my 
neck  broken  into  the  bargain  if  only  I  may  bear 
witness  to  fhe  truth.  Those,  sir,  are  my  sentiments. 
And  now  is  there  anybody  here  with  whom  a  man 
can  talk  common-sense?  " 

Boimd  and  helpless  as  he  was,  the  doctor  still 
seemed  to  have  made  some  impression  on  the  mob. 


THE  VOICE  OF  THE  LORD.  333 

Thomas  Bodza,  therefore,  hastened  to  cut  him 
short. 

"  Then  you  maintain,"  he  began,  "  that  the  gentry 
have  not  poisoned  the  peasants?  " 

"A  man  must  be  mad  to  even  ask  such  a 
question." 

"Then  why  are  so  many  people  now  dying  all 
over  the  kingdom  ?  " 

"Because  of  their  sins.  They  are  dying  of  a 
terrible  plague  which  is  in  the  air,  in  the  earth,  in 
the  very  meat  and  drink  which  God  has  given  us, 
in  the  heat  of  the  day,  and  in  the  chill  of  night — 
a  plague  which  is  no  respecter  of  persons,  but  slays 
lord  and  serf,  rich  and  poor  alike ;  which  will  visit 
you,  too,  if  not  to-day  then  to-morrow,  which  will 
destroy  a  tenth  part  of  your  households,  which  will 
search  you  out  wherever  you  are,  in  the  forest,  in 
the  fields,  within  your  cottages,  though  you  were  to 
slay  instantly  everj'^  gentleman  in  the  coimty.  You 
will,  therefore,  do  well  to  untie  my  hands,  and  let 
me  distribute  amongst  you  the  blessed  antidote,  by 
means  of  which,  with  God's  assistance,  we  may  be 
able  to  prevent  this  terrible  calamity." 

Thomas  Bodza  felt  something  of  the  paralysis  of 
extreme  terror  when  he  saw  the  impression  made 
by  these  words  upon  the  mob,  which  evidently 
already  began  to  waver.  So  he  hastily  threw  him- 
self into  the  attitude  of  a  Roman  statue,  and 
exclaimed  with  a  loud  voice  : 

"  Doctor  I  I  tell  you  you  are  lying.  Let  nobody 
touch  that  white  powder,  fdr  there  is  death  in  it 


334  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

If  you  maintain  that  this  powder  is  not  poison,  take 
some  yourself ! " 

This  proposal  met  with  universal  approbation. 

"Yes,  yes!  let  him  swallow  some  of  the  stuff  he 
has  brought  if  it  is  not  poison." 

The  doctor  did  not  at  all  relish  the  idea  of  taking 
his  own  drugs,  but  he  was  careful  not  to  betray  his 
dislike,  for  he  was  in  a  decidedly  ticklish  position. 

"Death  comes  from  above,"  he  calmJy  observed 
to  the  master.  "Medicaments  are  no  food  for  a 
healthy  man,  but,  all  the  same,  I  will  willingly  take 
some  of  that  bismuth  powder  to  convince  you  all 
of  the  truth  of  my  statement" 

Then  Thomas  Bodza  proceeded  to  pour  a  paper 
full  of  the  stuff  down  the  throat  of  the  pinioned 
doctor. 

The  bystcinders  thronged  around  and  gaped 
curiously  at  him,  expecting  every  moment  to  see 
him  drop  down  dead. 

"  Look  how  green  his  face  is !  "  said  Bodza,  work- 
ing with  evil  intent  on  the  excited  imagination  of 
the  mob.  "Look  how  his  eyes  are  staring,  and 
how  ghastly  pale  he  is !  " 

"It  is  not  my  eyes  that  are  staring,  my  worthy 
master,  but  your  own,"  replied  the  doctor  calmly. 
"Your  face  is  pale,  you  are  trembling.  I  tell  you 
death  comes  from  above  and  not  from  my  powders." 

Thomas  Bodza  felt  so  dizzy  that  he  had  to  clutch 
hold  of  the  arm  of  shaggy  Hanak,  who  was  stand- 
ing by  his  side.  Quite  early  that  very  morning 
he  had  felt  a  sort  of  numbing  paralysis  in  all  his 


THE  VOICE  OF  THE  LORD.  335 

limbs,  a  sort  of  griping  cramp  convulsing  his  inner 
parts,  and  an  unspeakable  fear  had  arisen  within 
his  soul,  but  the  feeling  had  passed  over,  and  he 
had  put  the  thought  of  it  away  from  him. 

And  now,  again,  that  panic  fear,  which  has  no 
name,  but  beneath  whose  influence  the  bravest  of 
men  become  pale,  shaking  spectres,  overcame  him, 
and  he  felt  like  one  who  is  sensible  of  the  approach 
of  that  one  enemy  against  whom  there  is  no  defence. 

The  physician  was  the  first  to  detect  in  the  face 
of  his  tormentor  that  terrible  phenomenon,  fades 
Hypocraticay  and  when  he  said  to  him :  "  Your  face 
is  deathly  pale,"  he  as  irrecoverably  plimged  him 
into  the  grave  that  was  gaping  open  for  him,  as  if 
he  had  plunged  a  knife  into  his  heart 

The  horror-stricken  rioters  gazed  at  their  master 
who,  for  some  moments,  stood  gaping  at  them  with 
a  terribly  distorted  face.  There  were  two  coloured 
rings  roimd  his  glassy  eyes,  his  cheeks  had  fallen 
in,  his  lips  were  turning  yellow,  the  whole  man 
seemed  to  be  a  hideous  personification  of  mortal 
dread.  Then,  suddenly  with  a  loud  yell,  he  rolled 
down  the  steps,  and  collapsing  with  hideous  con- 
vulsions at  the  doctor's  feet,  yelled  in  the  midst  of 
his  racking  torments : 

"  God  of  mercy,  have  compassion  upon  me ! 
«    •    ,    Doctor,  help  me  1     I  am  dying  I  ** 


CHAPTER   XVIIL 

THE     READY-DUG     GRAVES. 

Imr£  H£tfalusy,  hastening  with  all  his  might; 
reached  at  last  the  officer  in  command  of  the  cordon, 
and  delivered  the  General's  command.  The  officer 
at  once  placed  four-and-twenty  soldiers  at  the  dis- 
posal of  the  General's  adjutant  More  he  could  not 
spare,  as  his  assistance  might  be  wanted  elsewhere. 

Imr6  lost  no  more  time  in  going  to  the  next 
cordon-commander,  but  marched  straight  off  to 
Hetfalu  with  his  four-and-twenty  warriors. 

Only  tibree  of  them  were  mounted,  the  General's 
adjutant,  Kamienszka,  and  himself,  all  the  rest  were 
on  foot  Even  with  the  utmost  exertion  it  would 
take  at  least  four  hours  to  reach  Hetfalu. 

During  the  long  journey  Maria  told  Imre  every- 
thing she  knew  about  his  family.  Nobody  disturbed 
their  conversation,  the  road  was  empty  and  noise- 
less. 

When  they  reached  the  first  csdrda  that  also  was 
silent  The  doors  and  windows  had  been  torn  from 
their  places,  the  road  was  strewn  with  the  debris  of 
casks,  bottles,  and  flasks.  Here  and  there,  amidst 
the  ruins,  were  little  pools  of  blood  in  which  some- 


THE  READY-DUG  GRAVES.  337 

body  had  stood,  leaving  a  bloody  trail  behind 
them.    .    .    . 

The  little  band  went  further  on  their  way  in 
silence. 

Two  hours  later  they  perceived  in  the  wayside 
woods,  concealed  among  the  bushes,  three  figures 
which  rose  to  their  feet  on  perceiving  the  soldiers, 
and  one  of  them  came  rapidly  towards  them,  and 
was  so  out  of  breath  when  he  reached  them  that 
he  could  not  speak  a  word,  and  would  have  fallen 
if  Imr6  had  not  supported  him  against  his  saddle. 

Then  Imre  recognised  the  worthy  Leather-bell. 

"  What's  the  matter,  old  man?  "  he  inquired  com- 
passionately. 

"Alas,  alas!  my  young  master,  a  terrible  thing 
has  happened.  I  cannot  describe  it  in  words.  I'm 
only  glad  that  we  have  saved  this  innocent  creature." 

"What  innocent  creature?  " 

"  This  child,  the  squire's  grandchild,  whom  Zuddr 
brought  up  in  secret,  and  the  headsman's  wife 
betrayed  But  she  has  paid  for  it  dearly  now. 
They  had  condemned  the  child  to  death.  I  hid 
them  here  beneath  the  bridge,  and  gave  them 
peasant's  clothes  to  put  on,  and  helped  them  to 
scurry  through  the  woods." 

At  these  words  Kamienszka  leaped  from  her  horse, 
and  ran  to  the  child  who  was  quite  worn  out  Her 
little  feet  were  all  wounded  and  bloody,  it  was  only 
by  leaning  on  the  arm  of  Zudar  that  she  was  able 
to  walk  at  alL 

The  headsman  recognised  at  once  the  youth  who 


538  THE   DAY    OF   WRATH. 

had  brought  a  blessing  on  his  house,  although  he 
had  now  quite  another  figure.  Now  he  had  come  to 
fight  ^udclr  stooped  down  and  kissed  his  hand. 
He  said,  too,  that  his  own  hands  were  now  pure, 
for  he  had  washed  them  in  blood,  the  shedding 
whereof  was  pleasing  to  God. 

The  officer  in  command  had  a  rough  litter  made 
from  the  branches  of  trees,  on  which  they  placed 
the  exhausted  little  girl.  Four  soldiers  were  then 
told  off  to  carry  it,  and  then  the  little  band  resumed 
its  march.  Elise  could  not  have  been  in  a  place  of 
greater  safety. 

Meanwhile,  the  Leather-bell  was  giving  a  full 
account  of  the  horrors  that  had  taken  place  around 
the  castle  from  the  evening  to  the  morning.  He 
had  left  the  place  just  as  Szephalmi  and  the  doctor 
had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  mob. 

Imre  was  beside  himself  with  horror. 

"I  must  hasten  to  save  my  father  or  die  with 
him,"  he  murmured  bitterly. 

The  officer  wanted  him  to  wait  so  that  they 
might  all  reach  the  castle  together,  but  he  would 
not  listen.  He  was  quite  ready  to  face  the  danger 
single-handed.  But  indeed  he  was  not  alone.  He 
had  beside  him  his  valiant  comrade,  in  love  a  true 
woman,  in  trouble  a  true  man,  and  she  would  not 
be  pcurted  from  him. 

"  Courage  and  hope !  "  she  cried,  pressing  his 
hand,  and  with  that  the  heroic  couple  spurred  their 
horses  along  the  grass-grown  road 


THE   READY-DUG  GRAVES.  339 

With  the  fall  of  Numa  Pompilius  the  last  vestige 
of  discipline  disappeared  from  the  ranks  of  the 
rioters.  The  loss  of  their  leader,  so  far  from  bring- 
ing them  to  reason,  only  made  them  desperate. 
Bodza  had  died  at  their  very  feet  after  half  an  hour 
of  the  most  excruciating  torments,  and,  meanwhile, 
there  mingled  with  the  crowd  numbers  of  wailing 
women,  each  of  whom  already  had  their  dead  at 
home,  and  spread  sorrow  and  confusion  wherever 
they  went  Then  everybody  lost  his  head,  and  was 
frightened  into  bestial  ferocity.  The  dying  lay 
about  in  the  road  with  none  to  care  for  them. 
Fathers  no  longer  owned  their  sons,  brother  had  no 
compassion  for  brother.  And  the  gentry  had  to  pay 
for  all  this  panic  terror. 

The  people  had  been  brought  up  in  such  a  way 
that  its  first  thought  on  breaking  out  of  its  cage  was 
to  tear  its  masters  in  pieces. 

It  listened  no  longer  to  any  word  of  command, 
only  the  latest  whim  obtained  a  hearing. 

Stubbly  Hanak  hit  upon  a  hideous  idea. 

"What  are  those  three  bigwigs  lounging  about 
here  for,  eh?"  he  cried  "Let  them  go  and  dig 
graves,  let  them  dig  their  own  graves !  " 

And  with  that  he  untied  their  bonds,  placed 
spades  and  shovels  in  their  hands,  and  pointed  out 
to  them  the  exact  spots  in  the  courtyard  of  the 
castle  where  they  were  to  dig  their  own  graves,  and 
nice,  picturesque  spots  they  were  too,  beneath  the 
shade  of  wide-spreading  chestnut  trees. 

Old    H^tfalusy    had    no    longer    the    physical 


S40  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

strength  for  such  work,  and  Dr.  Sarkantyus  declared 
categorically  that  anybody  who  was  fool  enough 
to  kill  him  might  do  so  if  he  chose,  but  that  he  was 
not  such  a  fool  as  to  dig  his  own  grave,  and  nobody 
should  make  him  do  it  either. 

Only  Szephalmi  took  them  at  their  word.  On 
his  knees  he  implored  them  not  to  torture  him, 
and  he  would  willingly  dig  not  only  his  own  grave, 
but  the  graves  of  his  comrades  also. 

The  rioters  thrust  a  spade  into  his  hand,  and, 
grinning  with  delight,  instructed  him  how  to  throw 
aside  the  earth  out  of  the  furrow,  and  then  they 
made  him  lie  down  in  it  in  order  to  take  his  proper 
measure. 

And  how  boisterously  they  laughed  at  the  fun  of  it 

Suddenly  there  was  a  soimd  of  pattering  hoofs, 
and  two  horsemen,  with  drawn  swords  in  their 
right  hands,  galloped  into  the  courtyard. 

ThiTy  came  so  unexpectedly  that  only  the  shrieks 
of  the  women  wailing  at  the  gate  told  the  frantic 
mob  of  their  arrival 

"  My  son !  "  cried  the  old  squire,  painfully  raising 
himself  from  the  ground  with  a  supreme  effort 

"  My  father,  my  father ! "  wailed  the  youth,  and 
with  that  he  cut  his  way  through  the  thickest  of  the 
crowd,  distributing  vigorous  blows,  right  and  left, 
till  he  had  forced  his  way  up  to  his  father's  tortured 
body,  and  forgetting  everything  at  that  moment, 
he  flung  himself  from  his  saddle,  fell  upon  his 
father's  neck,  and  embraced  and  sobbed  over  him. 

The  brutal  mob  instantly  rushed  upon  him  with  a 


THE  READY-DUG  GRAVES.  34« 

savage  yell,  when,  suddenly,  a  couple  of  shots 
resounded,  and  two  of  the  assailants  fell  dead  close 
beside  the  father  and  son.  It  was  Maria  who  had 
fired  these  shots,  and  now,  leaping  from  her  steed, 
she  shook  Imr6  violently. 

"You  must  fight  for  your  life  now,  and  leave 
weeping  for  another  time,  my  boy ! "  cried  she. 

The  youth  quickly  recovered  himself  and  drew 
his  sword,  and  then  the  pair  of  them  turned  upon 
the  cowardly  mob,  and,  by  sheer  dint  of  hard  fight- 
ing, began  driving  them  out  of  the  doorway  of  the 
castle. 

In  no  very  long  time  there  were  three  of  them, 
for  the  doctor  had  had  his  weather-eye  open,  and, 
when  the  general  attention  was  distracted,  he 
snatched  up  the  spade  assigned  to  him,  and  there- 
with dealt  a  lanky  lout  beside  him  such  a  blow  at 
the  back  of  the  neck  that  he  immediately  fell  down 
and  never  spoke  agaia 

"  Come  along  with  us,  Mr.  Szephalmi,  come 
along ! "  cried  the  doctor,  as  he  joined  the  com- 
batants, but  Szephalmi  paid  no  heed.  He  fell  down 
on  the  edge  of  the  freshly-dug  grave  at  the  feet  of 
his  jailors,  and  declared,  sobbing  and  moaning,  that 
he  would  hurt  nobody  if  nobody  hurt  him.  The 
only  answer  they  gave  him  was  a  smashing  blow  on 
the  head  with  a  large  hammer,  and  he  fell  back  into 
the  grave  and  expired  on  the  spot 

A  vigorous  slash  with  which  Imr6  severed  the  arm 
of  the  most  powerful  of  the  peasants,  clean  off  at  the 
elbow,  somewhat  damped  the  fighting  ardour  of  the 


34a  THE   DAY   OF   WRATH. 

crowd,  which  drew  back  to  curse  and  swear  at  a 
distance.  The  respite  thus  gained  was  sufficient  to 
enable  the  little  group  of  gentlemen  to  reach  the 
door  of  the  castle,  and  bolt  and  bar  it  behind  them, 
after  having  first  of  all  rescued  old  Hetfalusy  from 
the  hands  of  his  murderers. 

Fortunately  not  one  of  the  rioters  remained  in 
the  castle,  indeed  there  was  nothing  else  for  them 
to  do  there.  Everything  had  been  eviscerated,  torn 
to  atoms,  reduced  to  powder.  A  large  portion  of 
the  mob  was  down  in  the  cellars  dead  drunk. 

Imre  Hetfalusy  who,  all  this  time,  had  held  his 
father  closely  embraced,  now  deposited  him  on  a 
torn  and  ragged  hair  mattress,  and  then  they  both 
embraced  each  other  again,  and  neither  could  speak 
a  word.  It  was  both  joy  and  anguish,  it  was  some- 
thing which  words  could  not  describe. 

And  now  for  the  defence ! 

The  three  of  them  could  not,  of  course,  defend 
the  whole  castle  against  the  furious  mob  whenever 
it  should  return.  For  return  it  certainly  would,  and 
if  it  could  not  get  through  the  door,  it  was  at  least 
able  to  climb  through  the  windows.  The  best  plan, 
therefore,  was  to  confine  the  defence  to  a  single 
room,  and  the  most  convenient  stronghold  was  the 
family  library,  the  door  of  which  was  strengthened 
by  iron  fastenings. 

The  sole  object  of  the  besieged  was  to  keep  the 
mob  at  bay  till  the  arrived  of  the  soldiery. 

In  a  few  moments  the  roar  of  the  rioters  advanc- 
ing to  the  attack  was  again  audible.     Stones  flew 


THE   READY-DUG  GRAVES.  343 

through  the  windows,  and  angry  fists  thundered  at 
the  door.  Curses  and  savage  threats  resounded  in 
the  passages.  The  mob,  swarming  in  the  courtyard, 
were  carrying  about  on  their  shoulders  the  dead 
bodies  of  the  two  peasants  that  had  been  shot,  two 
or  three  men  with  bloody  faces  were  exhibiting  their 
wounds,  the  widow  of  one  of  the  fallen  held  up  her 
weeping  children  in  her  arms,  and  hounded  the  mob 
on  to  vengeance  with  her  frantic  bitterness. 

The  room  to  be  defended  had  a  window  looking 
out  upon  the  courtyard,  and  a  door  opening  upon 
the  passage.  Maria  was  to  be  the  defender  of  the 
window,  Imre  the  defender. of  the  door.  The  doctor, 
meanwhile,  with  the  nonchalance  becoming  his  pro- 
fession, was  binding  up  old  Hetfalusy's  wounds, 
tearing  off  portions  of  his  own  shirt  to  serve  as 
bandages. 

The  rioters  had  now  occupied  the  hall,  they  had 
crept  into  the  castle  through  tl:ie  rearward  windows, 
the  walls  and  arches  rang  with  their  triumphant 
shouting. 

"  Imre  I "  said  the  old  squire  to  his  son,  "  come 
nearer  to  me !  " 

The  youth  approached  his  suffering  father  and 
knelt  down  before  him. 

"  It  may  be  God's  will,"  murmxured  the  aged  man, 
"  that  within  an  hour  both  of  us  may  stand  before 
His  Judgment  Seat  Promise  me  that  you  will 
never  accuse  me  of  being  a  hard  father,  that  you 
will  never  say  that  I  hunted  you  to  death.  Promise 
me  that,  my  son  I " 


344  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

"I  have  always  loved  you,  and  I  will  love  yoti 
still,"  sobbed  the  youth,  kissing  the  shaking 
hand, 

"  Let  us  not  part  from  each  other  in  tears,"  con- 
tinued the  old  man,  "  let  us  rejoice  as  they  rejoice 
who  have  found  again  those  whom  they  fancied 
they  had  lost,  and  now  let  me  bless  you  as  a  father 
may  bless  his  son  when  he  is  about  to  imdertake  a 
long  journey." 

And  then  he  placed  his  trembling  hands  on  his 
son's  head,  while  his  eyes  looked  up  to  Heaven, 
and  his  dumb  lips  murmured  an  inaudible  prayer 
to  the  Lord  of  life  and  death. 

"And  now,  my  son,  brace  yourself  up  for  your 
long  journey ! " 

But  Maria  came  rushing  towards  them. 

"  To  work,  my  friend !  bear  a  hand !  The  evil 
game  has  begun.  Let  us  but  gain  half  an  hour  and 
all  our  lives  will  be  saved." 

"Who  is  that  apparition,"  whispered  old  Het- 
falusy  to  his  son,  "who  has  twice  descended  from 
Heaven  to  save  us?  " 

Imr6  looked  with  some  hesitation  at  Maria,  the 
girl  gazed  back  at  him  encouragingly. 

"Yes,  tell  him!  Why  not?  I  am  your  wife,  the 
famous  Maria  Kamienszka,  and  this  is  not  the  first 
time  I  have  been  in  the  midst  of  a  scrimmage. 
Courage,  my  father,  your  son  is  now  in  your 
embrace,  and  in  half  an  hour  your  grand-daughter 
will  be  there  also.  Trust  in  God  and  be  not  faint- 
hearted I" 


THE  READY-DUG  GRAVES.  345 

**  Ah,  yes !  "  whispered  the  old  man,  with  a  trans- 
figured countenance  and  a  voice  full  of  enthusiasm, 
"  this  cannot  be  the  hour  of  my  death,  no,  my  God ! 
it  cannot,  cannot  be !  " 

The  youth  and  the  valiant  young  woman  then 
warmly  pressed  each  other's  hands,  and  hastened 
back  to  their  posts.     It  was  indeed  high  time. 

The  besiegers,  after  swarming  all  over  the  castle, 
had  come  at  last  upon  the  barred  and  bolted  door, 
and  with  the  bloodthirsty  howl  of  ravening  beasts, 
had  rushed  upon  it  with  their  iron  bars,  while 
another  band  began  wrenching  out  the  iron  fasten- 
ings of  the  windows  with  their  sharp  csakanyas* 

The  besieged  had  to  economize  their  shots,  for 
th^  had  only  four  charges  left  Their  means  of 
defence  had  to  be  reserved  till  the  very  last  instant, 
they  could  not  afford  to  simply  destroy  the  first 
stupid  bumpkin  who  might  happen  to  come  in  their 
way. 

The  fear  of  death  no  longer  terrified  the 
besiegers.  Several  times  Maria  held  the  barrel  of 
her  pistol  close  to  the  temples  of  the  peasant  who 
was  busy  with  the  iron  fastenings  of  the  window, 
and  he  did  not  so  much  as  move  his  head.  Many 
of  the  howling  mob  were  so  drunk  that  they  no 
longer  knew  what  fear  was.  They  thrust  their 
hands  through  the  glass  to  open  the  window 
sashes,  and  Majria  sliced  away  with  her  sword  at  the 
intruding  hands,  and  a  few  minutes  afterwards  the 

•  Hooked 


34«       THE  DAY  OF  WRATH. 

same  bloody  hands  would  re-appear  with  stunted 
fingers.    Wounds  no  longer  hurt  them. 

The  time  had  come  when  the  besieged  could 
coimt  the  minutes  which  they  had  still  to  live,  the 
blows  given  and  received  were  like  so  much  money 
paid  for  life,  whosoever  stock  failed  first  would  be 
utterly  ruined. 

Maria  was  able  to  defend  the  window  longer 
than  Imr6  could  defend  the  door,  one  of  whose 
panels  was  suddenly  burst  in  with  a  loud  crash, 
opening  a  breach  to  the  besiegers  outside,  whose 
sudden  rush  to  the  gap  made  it  impossible  for  the 
youth,  despite  the  most  frantic  efforts,  to  defend 
the  crazy  door  much  longer. 

Maria  heard  Imre's  cry  of  despair,  and,  forgetting 
the  same  instant  her  own  danger,  quitted  the 
window,  and  sped  to  the  help  of  her  beloved. 

For  a  few  moments  the  besiegers  made  a  frantic 
effort  to  force  their  way  through  the  door,  but  at 
length  the  two  swords,  swift  as  lightning  flashes, 
beat  down  the  brutal  preponderance  of  the  mob. 
The  two  defenders  held  their  places,  held  them,  at 
any  rate,  till  the  besiegers  should  stream  through  the 
window  or  shoot  them  down  from  behind 

Either  of  these  eventualities  might  be  expected 
at  any  moment 

"  Keep  your  shots  to  the  very  last,"  whispered 

Maria  to  Imre.       "  Reserve  one  of  them  for  the 

enemy,  and  the  other  for  me.      I  must  not  fall  into 

their  hands  alive." 

Nevertheless,  there  was  an  unaccountable  tardiness 


THE   READY-DUG  GRAVES.  347 

among  the  besiegers  of  the  window,  and  the 
assailants  of  the  door  also  began  thinning  down, 
and  everyone  noticed  with  surprise  that  the  deafen- 
ing din  had  abated,  and  a  momentary  suspension  of 
hostilities  had  taken  place. 

"  Our  rescuers  are  at  hand !  "  cried  Maria,  and  the 
same  instant  they  could  hear  the  soxmd  of  rolling 
drums  drawing  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  castle. 

The  rebels  had  quitted  the  besieged  window  and 
were  scampering  towards  the  gate. 

The  last  beat  of  the  drum  indicated  that  the 
soldiers  had  arrived  in  front  of  the  castle. 

There  were  only  five-and-twenty,  most  of  them 
young  fellows,  mere  lads,  and  opposed  to  them 
stood  a  savage  multitude,  armed  with  all  sorts  of 
hastily  appropriated  weapons,  and  with  bloodthirsti- 
ness  enough  for  a  whole  army. 

The  young  officer  in  command  stood  at  the  head 
of  his  little  company,  and  when  he  saw  the  headless, 
savage  mob  surging  all  around  him,  he  exhorted 
them,  in  e  bold,  manly  voice,  to  return  to  their 
homes,  respect  the  laws,  and  give  up  their  captives 
and  their  ringleaders. 

Shaggy  Hanak  took  it  upon  himself  to  respond 
to  this  invitation : 

"We  will  not  return  to  our  homes,"  he  shouted, 
"so  long  as  a  single  castle  in  the  kingdom  is  still 
standing.  We  will  make  whatever  laws  we  like. 
We  will  give  up  the  captive  gentry  when  they  are 
stone  dead,  and  as  for  our  ringleader  you  may  have 
him  if  you  can  catch  him." 


348  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

To  still  further  emphasize  his  words,  shaggy 
Handk  whirled  his  knobby  bludgeon  above  his  head, 
and  shied  it  frantically  at  the  officer,  who  warded 
off  the  blow  with  his  sword,  and  the  same  instant 
a  young  private  transfixed  the  braggart  so  vigor- 
ously that  the  end  of  his  bayonet  stuck  in  the 
ground  behind 

This  unexpected  scene  served  as  a  signal  for  the 
little  band  of  soldiers,  and  they  there  and  then  fired 
into  the  thickest  of  the  crowd. 

And  with  that  the  whole  horrible  tragedy  came 
to  Bii  end 

A  single  volley  dispersed  the  whole  ragged  host 
The  corpses  remained  on  the  ground  naturally,  but 
all  the  rest  fled  without  another  word,  fled  incon- 
tinently over  pillar  and  post,  rushed  straight  home, 
hid  themselves  away,  put  on  their  simplest  air, 
washed  the  blood  from  their  hands,  and  held  their 
tongues. 

The  rescued  welcomed  their  deliverers  with  open 
arms.  But  another  quarter  of  an  hour  and  very 
sorry  remnants  of  them  would  have  been  found  at 
H6tfalu. 

Meanwhile,  out  came  Dr.  Sarkantytis,  and  a  very 
great  pother  he  made,  insisting  that  the  whole  com- 
pany should  instantly  hasten  back  to  town,  as  if 
they  remained  there  the  pale  death  would  speedily 
overtake  them,  and  it  would  therefore  boot  them 
little  to  have  escaped  from  the  red  death.  And 
indeed  the  plague  was  raging  fearfully  in  that 
district,  and   dying  wretches  were  writhmg  con- 


THE   READY-DUG  GRAVES.  349 

v.clsively  in  the  streets  outside.  He  himself  must 
remain  on  the  spot  He  was  bound  by  his  official 
duties  to  visit  the  very  houses  of  these  persons 
who,  half  an  hour  ago,  had  combined  to  torture  him, 
and  whose  families  were  now  themselves  suffering 
torments  in  the  grip  of  this  unknown  disease. 
Nevertheless,  he  required  the  escort  of  two  armed 
men,  for,  as  he  jocosely  observed,  "The  Deuce  is 
ba  it  when  patients  would  compel  the  doctor  to 
drink  his  own  drugs." 


H^tfalusy  had  the  felicity  of  embracing  his  long- 
lost  grandchild  before  he  died  The  child  accepted 
him  as  her  grandpapa,  but  begged  that  she  might 
have  as  her  dear  papa  besides,  good  old  Zuddr, 
who  had  loved  her  so  much. 

Hetfalusy  nodded  his  consent,  and  pressed  the 
coarse  palm  of  the  headsman  with  his  own  gentle- 
manly hand  Nobody  told  the  child  that  she  had 
a  perfect  right  to  call  Zuddr  her  father,  inasmuch  as 
her  real  father,  who  had  cast  her  from  him,  now  lay 
frightfully  disfigured  in  a  grave  he  had  dug  with  his 
own  hand. 

Hetfalusy  indeed  never  mentioned  the  name  of 
his  son-in-law  again. 

Then  they  laid  him  in  the  carriage  already  pre- 
pared for  him,  and  little  Elise  sat  beside  him  and 
nursed  his  head  in  her  lap.  Oh,  by  this  time,  she 
was  very  well  used  to  nursing  old  people. 


350  THE    DAY    OF   WRATH. 

Maria  and  Imre  accompanied  the  carriage  on  foot 
all  the  way  to  town.  Yet,  once  again,  they  were 
forced  to  fight  their  way  through  armed  bands  of 
rebels,  but  after  that  they  reached  the  town  peace- 
ably enough- 

The  General  had  g^ven  orders  that  Hetfalusy 
should  be  conducted  straight  to  his  house  as  soon 
as  the  old  man  arrived. 

Boundless  was  the  joy  of  the  worthy  General  to 
welcome  in  his  home  as  a  guest  the  man  who,  once 
upon  a  time,  had  been  his  mortal  foe. 

Now  indeed  they  could  pardon  each  other  every- 
thing. 

Hetfalusy  knew,  at  last,  why  the  General  had 
abandoned  his  girl  so  suddenly,  and  how  could  the 
iron  man  help  forgiving  him  who  had  sinned 
greatly  against  him  it  is  true,  but,  at  the  same  time, 
had  suffered  so  terribly  for  it. 

It  was  only  mental  excitement  which  still  kept 
the  life  in  the  old  man's  shattered  body.  He 
survived  for  another  six  months.  His  bodily  wounds 
healed  but  slowly,  and  still  more  slowly  the  wounds 
of  the  spirit.  He  saw  his  only  son  happy  in  the 
love  of  the  noblest,  the  rarest  of  women ;  he  saw  his 
little  grandchild  growing  up  full  of  beauty,  wisdom, 
and  amiability;  and  it  did  him  good  to  rejoice  in 
the  domestic  happiness  of  his  former  enemy,  and 
oftentimes  he  would  call  Cornelia  his  darling 
daughter.    And  she  was  worthy  of  the  name. 

A  beneficent  stroke  of  apoplexy  called  him  home 
to  his  dead  in  the  family  vault  at  Hetfala 


THE  READY-DUG  GRAVES.  351 

Imr6  remained  no  longer  in  those  parts.  He 
settled  down  on  his  wife's  property  with  little  Elise, 
and  left  for  ever  the  place  which  had  such  melan- 
choly associations  for  him. 

And  Peter  Zudar  went  with  them.  He  pursued 
no  more  his  grim  profession.  After  that  last  master- 
stroke of  his,  he  never  grasped  the  headsman's  sword 
again.  He  had  wielded  it  for  the  last  time  at  God's 
command,  he  was  not  going  to  play  the  part  of 
death's  scytheman  any  more  at  the  bidding  of  man. 

Close  to  the  Kamienszki  estates  he  rented  a  little 
plot  of  land  where  he  grew  flowers  and  melons, 
sported  with  white  doves  and  little  rabbits,  and 
sang   in   the   church   choir   every   day.      It   never 

occurred  to  anyone  that  he  Had  once  been ^but  no 

matter. 

And  the  three  houses  at  H^tfalu  were  abandoned 
to  desolatioa 

The  gutted  dwelling-house  was  never  re-built 
The  castle  was  never  re-inhabited,  people  avoided 
it  as  a  spectre-stricken  dwelling.  Its  windows  were 
bricked  up,  its  garden  became  a  wilderness  of  weeds, 
its  steps  and  staircases  fell  to  pieces.  Ruin  wrought 
her  work  upon  it. 

The  hut,  with  the  moss-covered  roof,  endured  the 
longest  The  old  night-owl,  who  now  could  scarce 
use  her  limbs,  would,  nevertheless,  totter  of  an  even- 
ing to  the  place  where  stood  the  vast  family  vault 
of  the  Hetfalusies,  sit  down  there,  opposite  to  the 
iron  gate,  and  talk  all  sorts  of  nonsense  to  some 
imaginary  interlocutor. 


3Sa  THE    DAY    OF    WRATH. 

"  Eh!  eh!  old  Hetfalusy !  who  was  right  after  all? 
Didn't  I  say  you  would  be  the  first  to  go?  What 
a  little  room  satisfies  you  now !  what  a  quiet,  peace- 
able man  you  are  now  1  You  have  got  earth  enough 
at  last,  yet  you  were  always  hungering  after  more 
while  you  were  yet  alive!  You  would  be  at  rest 
now  if  I  would  let  you  alone,  eh?  Or  are  you 
sorry  that  we  cannot  go  on  with  our  wrangling? 
Well,  well,  if  I  should  discover  the  door  by  which 
you  made  your  exit,  we  will  begin  it  all  over 
again.     .    .    ." 

For  hours  at  a  stretch  she  would  pour  forth  these 
vain  mad  words,  unanswered,  imheeded.  What  had 
once  been  dust  now  lay  at  rest,  what  had  once  been 
a  human  spirit  now  abode  in  Heaven,  there  was 
none  to  answer  her. 

The  mossy  roof  grew  more  and  more  ruinous, 
and  at  last  one  day  the  old  night-owl  had  quitted 
her  nest  and  was  gone.  Nobody  mourned  for  her. 
Who  takes  any  count  of  the  birds  of  the  field  or  tlic 
beasts  of  the  forest  1 


!IHS  SHDi 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 
LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


2Jun'58Jf 

RiEC'P  cd 

11 AV  2l   -^Q'*'^ 

NIAt  *'A.  }y;jj 

JUL  111975  9  6 

General  Library 
LD  21A-50m-8,'57                                University  of  California 
(C8481sl0)476B                                                Berkeley 

YB  4046^ 


M4110B 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


p  BROS. 

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